Friday January 11 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Socializing and wading in the ocean – a few girls and guys congregating near the shoreline. I’m swept away by the current...being pulled away from the conversation...further and further away.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 12:30 p.m.

Oranges. Oranges. Oranges.

Mom and Jimmy come over.

Sharing lunch together. Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Edamame Hummus. Goldfish Crackers. Honey Green Tea.

Upstairs in my bedroom. I get Aysena connected on Skype and have her meet my mom for the first time. It’s a cute little conversation.

...

Jimmy’s sprawled out on the bed snoozing while I instruct mom how to use their new desktop computer – showing her all the kinks and tweaking. I should teach a beginner’s computer class as a job. For the most part though my mom already has a basic understanding of how to work Windows.

Jogging around the neighborhood in the cool misty night air.

Barbecue Salmon with Asparagus, Mushrooms, Onions, and Rice.

Mom and Jimmy stop by along with Jes, James, and this guy Kirk (this cowboy-looking kid who just recently got shot). We’re all one big happy family – sharing Oranges and Cookies. Darren, while opening a bottle of frozen champagne, accidently causes it to explode all over the kitchen.

...

It dwindles down to myself, James, and Darren. We get locked into Nintendo mode – trying out different games...R.B.I Baseball...Simon’s Quest. Darren and I engage in an intense match of Base Wars, a game where robots play baseball and battle each other over bases. He’s getting dramatically annoyed with the antics and feeling of defeat.

Darren: “This is why things in the 90’s were so frustrating because of games like this.”

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Base Wars Fight.

Thursday January 10 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

In a subway station. I’m in possession of multiple things that make it difficult to keep track of. Trains zoom by but never the one I’m waiting for. Josiah saunters off to find a restroom. Meanwhile our train pulls up. I can’t leave him behind. He returns just in time. We board the train and sit down in the corner of the front car.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 1 p.m.

Oranges. Instant Oatmeal with Blueberries. Orange Juice.

I drive over to Art Walker’s, Jimmy’s old workplace, and pick up my mom. First stop: City Lights, to get some special bulbs and ballasts for the DeKuyper sign. Then, to the Salvation Army thrift store to browse. I find this killer Virginia Beach picture.

 

Sharing Papaya.

A friend calls her on the phone.

Mom: “I’m happy as pie cause I’m with my son!”

...

We decide to visit my sister Dana’s grave at the Woodlawn Cemetery off Newtown. It’s been a few years since my mom’s been here. I remember coming here when I was younger – melancholy memories. The vase built into the gravestone is stuck inside. My mom wants to get purple flowers to place there so we get it fixed by one of the maintenance guys. I never connected it until now but I realize my affinity for the color purple is related to my sister. Her favorite color was purple and the significance is even greater as she was wearing her favorite purple L.A. Lakers jacket when she was found, as well as the skin of her body was completely purple. Maybe it’s my homage to her in a small way.

Back home. Mom makes fresh Guacamole to dip Quinoa Black Bean Chips in. I make some Eggs and warm up some Focaccia Bread. Sharing food at the table and digging into a deep discussion on some intense behind-the-scenes things that she’s been dealing with. Growing up you always think of your parents or guardians as living these sort of flawless lives, lives without any major complications. You just don’t think it as a kid. But now that I’m older, and whenever I sit down with my mom and confide in each other, you discover things are more fragile than you thought. Not everything is always all right. But one thing is for sure...my mom and I will always stick together...we will always lift each other up through the thick and the thin.

Going for a jog around the neighborhood.

James Graves cooks up a meal in the kitchen using whatever resources he can find. I partake. Chicken Sausage, Potatoes, Carrots, and Rice in a delicious Tomato Sauce. Sipping on a Peroni Beer.

...

After Anthony and his band finish practicing we had planned a Nintendo Revival. Someone donated a bin at Kelley’s thrift store with a complete Nintendo system and a nice collection of games. We’ve got a nice lively bunch hanging out in the living room as we play through games like Duck Hunt, Mario Bros., R.B.I. Baseball, etc. There’s an outburst of OHHHHH’s and AHHHHH’s. Somehow it turns into a Pillow Brawl.

Chocolate Chip Cookies and Milk.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

---

[i] All images by me or mom.

Wednesday January 9 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

A blurry hazy array of scenarios – revisiting the past – time travel.

▬ ○ ☼

Getting out of bed around 1:30 p.m.

Hot Oat Bran with Cinnamon, Brown Sugar, Blueberries, and Milk. Orange Juice. Zinc (50 mg).

Chatting with Aysena on Skype. She’s been in Dubai for the past few days with her mother, whom I have found is just as shy as her. It’s always such a treat to see Ays. Even with all this time that has passed I still don’t fully understand the function of our relationship. In my head it’s not as simple as her being my girlfriend; it feels like something else. Whatever it is I know I enjoy seeing her charming and beautiful face.

Me: “You are a witch. You’ve cast a spell on this little boy.”

PB&J Bagel. Goldfish Crackers. Strawberry Kombucha Tea.

A mini field trip with Devon and Anthony – to Target (Devon uses her gift cards to buy the house toilet paper and paper towels) – then to the thrift store. Kelley and Elliott are on the clock. And Carmen’s here too. Trying on silly jackets and gathering a few dumb things to decorate the house with.

Compiling old letters/notes from high school.

Salad with Almonds and Spicy Peanut Sauce.

Basketball fun with Elliott, Anthony, Kelley, Darren, and Devon. It’s after hours of course when all we have is the glow of the streetlights.

...

My mom and Jimmy drove all the way from Florida to visit Virginia Beach for a few days. We meet up with them at Chicho’s for Pizza and Beer. Warm embraces from my mom. A beer pong tournament is going on. Elliott and I give it a whirl but lose quickly against Darren and Devon.

...

Afterwards, I bring mom and Jimmy back to the house. They came bearing gifts of fresh produce like papaya and bags of oranges straight from the heart of Florida.

I spend an hour setting up a new computer for them.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

---

[i] Image by me.

Tuesday January 8 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Rubbing this cool oily substance all over the back and arms of a public speaker of some kind, maybe she’s an evangelist, while she’s preaching to a small crowd. My mom is here encouraging me to wear this strange oil but I insist I’m doing my job already by doing what I’m doing. At some point the evangelist and I embrace on stage in front of all the people. We’re smiling and connecting.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 12:21 p.m. I love palindromes.

Maple and Brown Sugar Instant Oatmeal with Blueberries. Coffee with a little Sugar and Milk.

Tweaking.

Grilled Cheese on a Bagel with Tomato and Edamame Hummus. Goldfish Crackers. Honey Oolong Tea.

Watching Taken 2 (2012).

Scanning old photos.

Working out at the gym.

Strawberry Kombucha Tea.

Watching a Vice documentary on K-Pop.

Potatoes, Carrots, Broccoli, Turkey, and Macaroni for dinner.

As I continue to scan photos into my computer I’m inspired to go on an adventure and sift through the closet that’s stacked to the brim with boxes – picking, digging, reminiscing, and traveling back in time to my younger years – old love letters, prayers, baby photos, basketball cards, comic books, Hot Wheels, and Valentines. I’m lost in this sea of nostalgia. Oh boy. The 90’s. It was my golden decade. Along with, I found a 90’s Gospel Hip Hop Youtube channel as my soundtrack to this trip down memory lane.

Becca calls me out of the blue. Chatting with her on the phone while I continue rummaging through my closet of memories.

Me: “It’s like a key to time travel. With all this stuff I can go back in time whenever I want.”

Popcorn and Strawberries.

Wow. It’s after 4 a.m. and I’m just now getting to sleep.

---

[i] Me and Moses (1998).

Monday January 7 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Helping a man cut the grass of his front yard with a trimmer – he hasn’t been keeping up with the maintenance. I don’t know why I’m helping him. It just felt right.

▬ ○ ☼

Alarm goes off at 11 a.m.

Strawberries for breakfast.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s been two and a half hours and I’ve only taken one order. I’m just sitting here in this hardly-cushioned chair reading Adbusters magazine infiltrating my mind with doom and gloom of the planet’s future.

“When beliefs, aesthetic preferences and moral proclivities are all left to personal style, we have the hipster mentality, where nonchalant nihilism is cool. Indeed, the word ‘moral’ itself is a dirty word amongst anyone outside the realm of conservatism. But the cult of individualism transcends politics: we are all in the cult. We’ve all had its invisible lens pulled over our eyes such that we perceive the world through a warped and myopic tunnel vision. Aiming to find and remove this lens is as futile as trying to bite your own teeth – for it is built into us.”

Recalling the last order I took to Harper’s Square. 1288 Corsair. An adorable black girl who doesn’t really tip that great but I was tempted today to spring up my mild affections to her. Sometimes, in situations like this, I run through the conversation in my head, you know, on how it would sound.

[Just as she’s about to close the door I would stop her, “Oh. Wait.” She’d pull the door back and listen. “I’ve delivered to you a lot of times before. I just wanted to say...that...I think you’re pretty cute.” She’d smile and thank me. “Alright. See you later.”]

Egg. Five Guys French Fries with Ketchup. Honey Oolong Tea.

Kenneth drops by.

Me: “Whoa! I haven’t seen you in years. What’s going on?”

Coincidentally I have an order to deliver that’s addressed to 1625 Michigan Avenue, which is right next door to 1623 and also where his mother (and my landlord) used to live (God rest her soul). It’s funny that of all the times he could’ve popped in for a visit over the years he chose today. I chat with him for a little bit. He seems to still have the same agenda as far as collecting and gathering and growing, being his usual street urchin self.

Kenneth: “God bless brotha!”

Cinnamon Chip Scone.

This shift just drags on. I’m glued to the chair playing poker on my phone and reading. Cecily and Ling teach me some Chinese characters for items on the menu. I’m hoping to learn how to write up orders in Chinese eventually.

Hot and Sour Soup with Rice and Broccoli.

This day can easily go down in history as one of the slowest days I’ve ever worked. Only 15 orders and about 60% less than I usually make in tips.

Back home. Anthony, Kelley, and Kevin are enjoying the locally filmed classic Psycho Kickboxer (1997) downstairs. I join them for a little bit while I stretch and exercise.

Chocolate Chip Cookies with Milk.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] http://jucophoto.com/grid

Sunday January 6 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

I can’t tell if it’s Russia or if it’s just some place in North Carolina, but I’m here visiting Aysena for just one day. Somehow I had the opportunity but our time is short. Wherever this is it’s very far away from where I live. My dad commits to waiting until the next day to drive back so that her and I can see each other longer. Her mom is here too. I keep myself busy mingling casually with family members, not interacting very much with Ays. Even though she’s in the next room she sends me this really long and upsetting message to my phone complaining about how I’m not giving her enough attention and I’m wasting our time. I venture upstairs to the third floor. In a guest bedroom she’s there sprawled out on the bed. I feel happy that we can finally get privacy.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 11:36 a.m.

Oranges. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Peanut Butter English Muffin. Goldfish Crackers. Honey Oolong Tea.

The workday is steady.

Snacking on Strawberries.

Waiting at the stoplight on Laskin and Regency, a familiar face in the car next to mine. It’s one of our old delivery drivers, the Russki! He was funny.

Him: “I see you around all the time.”

“Still delivering huh?” I ask.

“Oh yeah.” He tilts his head to one side, smiles, and says, “At least we have jobs.”

The last hour is supremely dead. Enjoying an early dinner.

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

Dealing with the general ruckus downstairs involving Mike Fry, Richie Howard, and Kevin Moore. Tristan happens to be here. I point out amongst all the OO AA AA EEK! sounds, “Look at this, Tristan. It’s like monkeys in a cage.”

Cherry Pie and Milk.

Finishing Ghost Dog (2000).

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Ays Pls.

Saturday January 5 2013

[i]

Rising out of bed at 11:07 a.m.

Cinnamon Oatmeal with Brown Sugar, Strawberries, and Milk. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Screw in my driver’s side tire. Luckily I’m prepared for a flat with a spare and the right tools to fix it.

The day kind of drags.

Egg. Five Guys French Fries with Ketchup. Honey Oolong Tea.

Snapping the peas.

Cinnamon Chip Scone.

The orders aren’t in big numbers today but the individual tips are generous enough to balance everything out.

Darren arrives to help out with the dinner rush. For a while we sit down at the plastic marbled table and get into a deep discussion on the future – the possible departing of ways between all members of the house when our lease ends in May. Some are considering moving to Arizona or Florida. But it’s all just wishes and talk. I’ve entertained the idea of living in Russia for a month or two after May. But we’ll see.

Vegetable Lo Mein.

Off work and back home.

Watching Ghost Dog (2000).

Chocolate Chip Cookies and Milk.

“There is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower, you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you still get the same soaking. This understanding extends to everything.”

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Ghost Dog poster.

Friday January 4 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

On tour in an exotic landscape. It feels like we’re at the bottom of South America. It’s such a beautiful sight, the mountainous terrain and rocky beach. Down by the water is a horse stable. Inside I catch eyes with a mysterious red buffalo. We stare for a long time. Then he’s taken somewhere. I try to maintain eye contact as he’s escorted off.

▬ ○ ☼

Getting out of bed at 12:37 p.m.

Strawberries. Orange Juice. Banana.

Meeting with Carl Capo at his house to discuss working together in music lessons as he teaches guitar and I can teach piano. I used to teach a few years back and have decided to spark up some part-time income with it again. Carl has a decent music room there so in exchange for using the space I would help market and bring in students. We sit around and mostly talk about car troubles and movies for a good while.

Dropping off our old dryer to the salvage yard for scrap metal. They give me $8 for it. Come to find out they even accept aluminum. I’ll probably start collecting the aluminum cans we accumulate at the house and bring it here.

Back home.

English Muffin with Peanut Butter. Goldfish Crackers. Honey Oolong Tea.

Skype chat with Aysena – a much brighter and happier conversation. None of her roommates are there so we have the opportunity to engage in a more private conversation. I can’t stop smiling at her – she has this warm hypnotizing effect on my senses – I just watch her. We laugh and talk about my plans to come there in April. Her mother will be visiting her soon and bring her along to Dubai for a vacation. It’s funny because my mom will be visiting me here around the same time.

Before we end the cyber meeting she tells me, “I’m kissing you everywhere...every...every centimeter you have.”

I giggle and inform her, “I have a thousand centimeters.”

“Oh then a thousand times,” she says.

Running on the treadmill at the clubhouse for a few miles.

Black Beans with Mixed Vegetables and Rice.

Picking up an armoire from Maxwell – he’s giving it away.

Practicing with Stephanie at the storage unit – reviving Vaginasaurs songs – it’s been quite a long time since we’ve played these tunes.

Pumpkin Pie. Milk.

Clearing out a cluttered space in my bedroom and replacing it with this newly acquired armoire. There’s a slew of Kevin’s friends downstairs drinking and playing beer pong. Tristan stands guard by my door offering company and conversation while I rearrange all this stuff.

Popcorn. PBR.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Red Buffalo. Jeffrey Brian Fisher.

Thursday January 3 2013

[i]

Waking up just before 1 p.m.

Cinnamon Oatmeal with Bananas, Raisins, Brown Sugar, and Milk. Orange Juice.

Continuing to re-watch Cloud Atlas (2012).

“I understand now, that boundaries between noise and sound are conventions. All boundaries are conventions, waiting to be transcended. One may transcend any convention, if only one can first conceive of doing so. Moments like this, I can feel your heart beating as clearly as I feel my own, and I know that separation is only an illusion. My life extends far beyond the limitations of me.” — Robert Frobisher (Cloud Atlas)

Picking up a new dryer from a guy off Rosemont. He’s got a garage full of various antiques like a Sinclair Dino gas pump and an old coke machine.

Egg on an English Muffin with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Goldfish Crackers.

While pulling the old dryer out from the laundry closet we discover a pile of discarded clothing and lint and, more importantly about $14 in coins and bills. We put this money towards the cost of the new dryer.

Coffee with a Blondie Brownie.

Staying in my room – researching – exercising – dancing.

At random I get a text from Margot requesting for some moving help at the end of the month. She’ll be out of her condo in Ocean Trace, a place I used to spend many nights at. Apparently she’s moving into a place with a bunch of boys she doesn’t know very well but says gets along with. I immediately feel threatened, but just a little. I don’t know why. It’s strange how even after so much time spent apart I still feel a sense of entitlement, like I have the right to an opinion on the way she lives her life. I think I’ll always hold onto a remnant of bittersweet emotions with her.  

While making dinner in the kitchen in conversation with Tristan, both cracking light humor.

Tristan: “One thing I know is where food is.”

...

Darren steps in briefly and comments about the food I’m making, “It smells like shit.”

Me: “Okay.”

Darren: “You smell like shit.”

Me: “Okay.”

He exits the kitchen. I turn to Tristan and, with sarcasm, remark, “Darren. He’s so encouraging.”

Tristan: “He needs kids.”

Me: “Oh God. No!”

Tristan: “Put him in one of those hyperbolic time chambers and pop em’ out, see em’ full grown, and see how that went.”

[Ha-ha-ha]

Spaghetti with Onions, Red Peppers, and Tomato Puttanesca Sauce. Salad. Two Frosted Sugar Cookies (that Tristan brought over).

I briefly join the group in Darren’s room for a few minutes to watch Pan’s Labyrinth (2006).

Anthony: “Hey Kevin, tell Robert what you just heard about earlier...about the economy.”

Me: “What’d you hear about the economy?”

Kevin: “The economy’s bad.”

Me: “What?! You should tell someone.”

Doing some chores. Sipping on a Hard Cider. Researching.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Kilian Eng.

Wednesday January 2 2013

[i]

Waking up a little later than usual at 1:27 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

Tickling the ivories downstairs while Anthony and Kevin partake in a salmon meal.

Re-watching Cloud Atlas (2012).

“And I confess women’s hearts like their desires remain a mystery to me.”

“Freedom. The fatuous jingle of our civilization. But only those deprived of it have the barest inkling of what it really is.”

Errands.

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

General roommate camaraderie.

Kevin takes his shirt off and I notice his little patch of chest hair near the sternum almost resembles the bat symbol. It inspires him and he attempts to shave it into submission.

Feeling restless and as a vegetable. I head to the clubhouse and run over two miles on the treadmill. My body feels revived. Motivation to do things has kicked in.

Grilled Salmon with a hefty Salad and Parmesan Bread.

Elliott pops in at random and invites me to Pinboys for some bowling with Taylor and Michelle. But unfortunately there’s only time for one game. Then I invite them all back to my place. I feed Elliott a grilled cheese with some fried potatoes, what he would’ve gotten if we had gone to Rick’s. We invest in a few entertaining games of Sequence.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] All images by me.

Tuesday January 1 2013

[i]

Waking up from a figurative 2012 headache. Good afternoon, 2013.

Cinnamon Oatmeal with Brown Sugar, Raisins, and Milk. Coffee with Brown Sugar and Milk.

Skype with Aysena. She’s in Ukraine seeing some friends for New Years. The conversation starts out innocently enough and happy enough but somehow turns sour and stale after too much silence. For some reason she understands silence to be something negative and insulting. The fact is that sometimes you hit a certain point in conversation and there’s nothing else to talk about. I just have a different understanding of communication I suppose. I don’t know.

I get called into China Wok at 5 p.m. Working three hours – making decent side money. Feeling a sense of revitalization on this shift, everything efficient, everything working in my favor.

Black Beans with Onions, Bok Choy, Mushrooms, Carrots, and Rice.

Watching Cloud Atlas (2012).

Tweaking things – arts and crafts. While rummaging through some stacks of papers on the desk I come across an old makeshift script Phil wrote up based on Margot and I’s antics back in the 1623 days. It wasn’t an actual transcription or anything but rather a funny satire. On the back of the first page I find a few sentences unrelated to the script, probably something he was brainstorming with. It reads, “The shore is a dreadful place. I like to stay at sea. I like to stay in motion. Keep me on the surface.” This might’ve been a caption for one of his marker drawings that he used to make. Either way it stirs up my thoughts and I begin to reflect on where I am in life. I feel like I’m stuck on a shore of some island. Sometimes I long to be out there (at sea, in motion). I even trick myself into thinking I’m already “in motion” when really I’m just moving around in a constricted space. At my age I’m coming to a crossroads where I must determine to be on shore or at sea. What will I choose? Or will I go back and forth?

With a sudden burst of inspiration I take to the piano and trill out a fresh melody.

Chocolate Chip Cookies with Milk.

Finishing Cloud Atlas (2012).

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

---

[i] Cloud Atlas (2012).

Monday December 31 2012

[i]

Waking up. I check my phone. It’s 11:11 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

A Russian grandfather and dad with a son walk in for a pick-up order. I recognize their accent. Before they leave I ask if they’re Russian and attempt to impress them with a Russian sentence that translates to “I understand Russian only a little.” The dad smiles and congratulates me in such a way, “Xорошо.” Then the kid approaches the counter showing me his toy airplanes.

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

Because of it being New Year’s Eve the streets are a little more crowded than usual – everyone racing to grab the last champagne bottle. Noticing more taxis and other delivery drivers zooming around along with an increase in police presence on the road.

The day just zooms by – order after order after order after order.

Apple.

Exchanging a few texts with Leslie. She’s still working on stitching up my pants. She mentions something about her day not going well. I offer her to vent her troubles here at The Wok. She doesn’t come but says, “Hey, thank you. I seriously am super grateful we became friends.”

Me: “I am grateful as well. you’ve chosen to take a ride on this ‘friend’ ship and I can guarantee you a safe yet adventurous voyage.”

Leslie: “:0) glad to hear it capt’n bc this little LAS doesn’t swim all that well...”

Towards the end of my shift I’m getting agitated as the orders keep calling in causing me to work an extra hour later than usual. I find myself uncontrollably mumbling complaints to myself as I walk in and out of the restaurant.

I finally clock out of China Wok shortly after 11 p.m. I drop by the house to scoop up Darren. We deliver my last order of the night together like the delivery brothers we are. I make him drive so I can focus on shoveling my dinner into my mouth. I’m starving.

Broccoli, Snow Peas, Onions, and Rice in Brown Sauce.

Darren’s a little slow at maneuvering the car around the oceanfront. After dropping off Chinese food to customers at Palm Grove we pull up into Elliott’s driveway expecting a lively bonfire and friends but none of the sort is happening.

Me: “What in the world? Where is everybody?”

We call Elliott and he seems a little discouraged because apparently nobody showed up so he’s just lying in bed.

Me: “What? C’mon! I’ve got two bottles of champagne in the backseat. At least share a bottle with us.”

But he’s dead set on resigning for the night. So there we are, Darren and I, at 11:45 p.m. with no back up plan. I entertain the idea of grabbing a beer at Harpoon Larry’s, Margot’s workplace. At first it was kind of a joke but then we actually do it.

...

There. Darren and I grab a beer. They’re handing out plastic champagne cups for everyone. Margot is working. I hug and say happy new year and whatnot. We don’t stay long...just long enough to watch the ball drop on TV.

Soon after we join up with friends at Rick’s Café. James, Tristan, Anthony, Kelley, and Leisa are present.

Apple Pie.

James enlightens us with a hipster joke, “Why did the hipster burn his tongue on his coffee?”

Us: “Why?”

James: “Because he drank it before it was cool!”

[Ha! Ha! Ha!]

Everything is jovial and cheerful – the air is filled with a general spirit of excitement for 2013...but really it’s just another night at Rick’s.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

---

[i] All images by me.

Sunday December 30 2012

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Scanning a crowded gymnasium. Picking out a semi-familiar girl from the mass and approaching her. I compliment her attractive appearance. She’s not convinced that I think she’s pretty and adds that she has a boyfriend.

Me: “That’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”

Wesley Bunch appears. Apparently he’s her boyfriend. He’s wearing some grey and black colored woolen sweater. I’m half aware that I’m dreaming and decide to have my way considering there are no consequences. So I pick the girl up and carry her to a classroom where it’s understood to be a sex room. You can rent a bed for 30 minutes at a time in here but there’s no curtains or anything. Everything’s out in the open. No beds are available so I revert to a desk with a chair attached to it. The girl seems to be semi-unconscious. I lay her out missionary style. A woman that’s supposed to be the manager of the room is sitting directly next to us making it a little awkward. She writes our names down and hands us two limes to show we’ve rented. Wesley barges in interrupting our sex and starts shooting at me with a gun. It makes this weird flatulence-pop sound but no bullets come out. In reflex I snag the gun from his hands and start shooting him back. It turns out to be a fart gun. He laughs about it.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 11:30 a.m.

Oranges.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s true I can honestly say I’ve been working this job too long...to the point where I could crash and burn and lose my sanity...or just turn on my apathetic auto-pilot, which I normally do eventually. But these non-tippers are really striking a nerve today. Too many shit-tips in a row can cause aggravation. The color of a person’s skin makes no difference to me when it comes to respect or basic equality, but I’ve never been able to wrap my head around why 90% of my stiffs come from black people.

...

Delivering an order on Realty Lane. A black girl in grey sweatpants and lazy attitude answers the door. Her total is $13.92. She hands me a twenty.

I ask, “Alright. Um. So how much you need back?”

I use this tactical question to help hint at the fact I’m expecting a tip. I think it’s a subtle and polite method.

She answers, “Uh...seven. I mean six.”

I hand her six bucks, “Ooookay. Here’s six. That leaves me with eight cents.”

I kind of left the last sentence hanging in the air.

Half embarrassed she just says, “Yeah...” and starts to close the door. At this point the customer knows without a doubt that she’s not tipping me.

I add, “I work for tips just so you know.”

Without remorse and another “Yeah” she closes the door. 

Scrambled Egg. Five Guys French Fries with Ketchup. Honey Green Tea.

Delivering an order to Colonial Arms Circle. The nice shorthaired white girl deliberately crosses a straight line next to the tip section on the credit card receipt. I joke to myself in the car as I drive away, “And there’s the 10%!”

Dark Chocolate.

The day continues steadily into the night. The orders keep coming. Even though I’m not making as much of a top dollar as I was yesterday, today is still busy enough to produce a decent profit despite the 6 out of 34 orders that were stiffs.

Vegetable Lo Mein.

Off work and back home. 

Chatting with Leslie on the phone.

Leslie: “I don’t even know where I am right now. I entered a world I didn’t even know I was entering and got lost in it for a little while.”

...

Venting a little bit on the frustrations of my day. She has this to say about the non-tipping black people epidemic, “The African-American population spends more money on nondurable goods like clothing...and frivolous things. They spend money excessively. Right behind that is Hispanics, Hispanic females specifically. I guess when a black person stiffs you so many times it’s more evident. Because it’s something that draws your attention when it happens.”

http://www.areavibes.com/virginia+beach-va/demographics/

Downstairs de-shelling the pecans I got from North Carolina while continuing a discussion with Leslie.

Enjoying some of my slightly burnt Oven-Roasted Pecans with Milk.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Album artwork for single release of Cui Jian's “Nothing To My Name”.

Saturday December 29 2012

[i]

Waking up at 11:05 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s a dreary rainy day.

Grilled Cheese Bagel with Edamame Hummus and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

My attempt at charming the customers at their doorstep to reap a good tip sometimes works but for the hard-asses is futile. No matter what degree of pleasant small talk there is, the non-tipper stiffs you every time. I could smile like a grateful and happy little boy, compliment their stupid shirt, or even admire their yapping dog, but who am I kidding? Once an ignant, always an ignant.

It’s the weekend before New Years and this restaurant is abnormally busy. It’s a Chinese food frenzy as the pick-up orders pile up and the delivery orders over-run my passenger seat floorboard. I get stuck behind the counter tending to walk-ins, answering the phones left and right, and organizing tickets. At one point I just announce out loud, but not so loud, “I can’t do everything at once!” 

Leslie pops in for a visit but also with a purpose. She’s supposed to mend a kneehole in one of my pairs of pants. She rides around with me on a run during the most hectic part of the night.

Leslie: “You work hard and you care about the service(s) you provide...both of which are admirable, as well as exceptional attributes of character.”

Finally clocking out of this dreadful yet fruitful workday.

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

Watching Dredd (2012).

Fortune cookies say, “I think and that is all that I am.” and “For the things we have to learn before we can do them, we learn by doing them.”

Composing myself.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Kinetic Photograph.

Friday December 28 2012

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

I’m just an ordinary student who felt the need to rise up and stand against the corruption in our school. I march into a classroom and verbally go off on a teacher in particular who was known for degrading students. I shout and repeat phrases like, “You’re a joke!” and “You’re beyond idiocracy!”

The teacher leaves the room in a shameful fit. The faculty arrives on the scene after hearing all the commotion. One of the guys I know personally and beg that he give me just one more minute to talk to the class, “Hey. Just give me one minute. Please. Just one minute.” He allows it. So I turn to the classroom and begin my speech...

“Don’t be a mental retard!”

The students laugh and cheer.

“But...you know what I mean. I’m not talking about being retarded. I’m talking about the mind!”

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up just before 1 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice. Zinc (50 mg).

Out running some errands. Stopping at the shop on 17^th street to fix my brake light. Then to Plato’s Closet to sell back some unwanted clothes. I happen to run into Leisa, almost literally, inside the store. We chat for quite a while out front about the problems she’s facing with college in Maryland and trying to infiltrate communities. She traded two massages for two psych readings and both of them foretold the opposite fortune.

Lesia: “Well what do you think, Robert? You’re wise………looking.”

[Ha-ha-ha]

Me: “Wise...looking. Well, I don’t think you should get caught up in what others are telling you. The answers are inside you...not out there. The universe can help guide you...or other people can help illuminate what’s already inside you.”

Back home.

Skype chat with Aysena.

Egg Bagel with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Goldfish.

I get called into China Wok for a few hours. 

Oranges.

In Kelley and Anthony’s room, Kelley, Leisa, and Erin Gilroy. They’re talking like birds and I’m the bird watcher.

Lentils, Carrots, Mushrooms, Bok Choy, Onions, and Rice with Garlic Bread.

Leslie strolls in and we attempt to make homemade ice cream using coconut cream and blueberries. It’s proving difficult, as the consistency isn’t coming out the way we planned.

Everyone’s corralled downstairs in the dining room chatting up storms.

I ask Leisa, “Did you just add more makeup?”

Leisa: “No. Why do I look made-up?”

[Ha-ha]

...

I had commissioned Leslie to make one of her infamous fabric bracelets for my stepsister before I left at Christmas but we didn’t get the chance to meet up until it was too late. She hands it over to me. It’s incredible the things she can create from scraps. It wasn’t meant for me but I try it on; the size doesn’t fit on my wrist. I comment about how small it is and she snatches it away from me with an animated reaction.

Leslie: “I’ll wear it!”

Me: “You’re so funny. As soon as there’s even a hint of disappointment you’re like, Oh my gosh. That’s fine. Give it back!”

...

Darren resigns to his room with an exit line, “I have undead souls to kill.”

...

At some point Leisa leaves. Every now and then I pop my head in Kelley’s bedroom and talk with her and Erin who’s faithfully sipping on a bottle of white wine.

Kelley: “She stays on her old flings and then gathers new ones. It’s not just sex. She likes the attention.”

Erin: “No I like to have sex.”

Me: “Of course you do but it’s not always about the sex. It’s about the self-esteem.”

Erin: “I just wanna get married and have some kids.”

Kelley: “So you’re looking for the perfect man. You’re on the manhunt. She’s looking for the baby daddy is what she’s doing.”

Erin: “No I’m not looking for a baby daddy. I just want someone to travel and love me and we can do stuff together.”

...

In the kitchen, Leslie and I are still working on the ice cream. She asks something about kosher salt.

Me: “Wait. What? It isn’t kosher salt.”

Leslie: “I don’t know. I’m just running my mouth.”

I playfully retort, “Maybe you should learn to stop running your mouth and think about what comes out of it.”

She adds, “Or what goes into it.”

Me: “Well you can think about what goes into it later.”

[Ha-ha]

Leslie: “That sounds like innuendo...for sure!”

...

Upstairs in my room I show Leslie some photos from the last four days I spent in North Carolina. Anthony pops in with an apparent excitement from running into a few old friends tonight. One of them happens to work for the military rec center and mentioned they were in need of basketball coaches for their basketball league for boys under 10-years old. He seems real stoked about the whole opportunity because it might actually be a legitimate job.

I pick on him, “Well how would you approach that? You never coached a team before.”

Anthony: “What’re you talking about?”

Me: “What’s the first thing you’re gonna have them do? First day of practice.”

Anthony: “Trust: the falling back exercise. So they’ll catch each other. Then show em’ Space Jam after that. Take a break. Then after that go to CiCi’s. Then some free-throws...”

[Ha-ha-ha]

Me: “What’re you gonna name the team?”

Anthony: “Anthony and the Jordans.”

[Ha-ha]

...

We convince Erin to wait it out before she tries driving home because we’re not confident in her substance control. Eventually she sobers up and dips out.

...

Leslie lingers for a little bit longer as we discuss how incredible it would be for a 30-year old (or older) blind person, after being blind all his life, to suddenly be given the ability of sight. For some reason it grips me strong.

Me: “Oh my gosh. That’s gotta be the scariest thing ever. I mean can you imagine that? Everything this person perceived over the years now comes to life! That’s so crazy. I wonder if his imagination would match up.”

Sipping on a beer.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Image by me.

Thursday December 27 2012

[i]

Waking up at noon.

Oranges. Cinnamon Brown Sugar Oatmeal Square. Hot Green Tea with Honey.

I’m still here in North Carolina at my dad’s place. We all drive out to my great uncle JW’s farm in Greenville. I haven’t seen him in years and years, not since I was a little boy. I’ve got a few memories of this place.

He pulls out a bunch of old textbooks and children’s books ranging from the 30’s to the 60’s. My dad and I discover red lips splotched on the introduction page of an arithmetic book. Underneath it says, “a friend.”

My dad pokes fun at JW, “You recognize the lips?”

JW: “No.”

[Ha-ha-ha]

Patty: “Maybe girlfriend.”

JW: “I had so many when I was coming along I can’t remember. All the girls loved me.”

Patty: “What happen wit ya girlfriend?”

JW: “I run them off...one at a time.”

JW gives us the tour of the farm. Inside the big barn that’s now renovated into a car garage.

JW: “This used to be dirt in here. This is where we would bring the wagon cart in and bring the corn and put it in the barn.”

Across the field sits a small graveyard. JW describes a ghost occurrence: “There’s a house right over here...across the field. And in front of it, down close to the highway, there’s a graveyard. And they [neighbors] swear that they see lights, ball of like a moon of light, leave that graveyard and go to that one and disappear. And they also say that they see it go out of that graveyard and go to that one.”

My dad chuckles and says, “Make you wanna come out here and sleep one night and check it out.”

...

Hanging out in the kitchen and cracking open freshly fallen Pecans from the tree. JW concocts a homemade cocktail sauce. I warm up one of the Tamales to eat with it. JW educates us on some not-so-well known information.

JW: “You know the American Indian lived on corn and potatoes. That’s how in Europe they didn’t have it. They didn’t have corn or potatoes. And did not have tomatoes. They talk about Italian sauce like it was created in Italy. The damn tomatoes were found here! Now I know that from reading the history books.”

...

JW: “We have let things get so far out of hand it’s ridiculous. It’s a joke and nobody can laugh at it. It’s a damn shame. In 1950, a person that made $50 a week could make payment on his house, could buy a car, raise three children, and...live. $50 a damn hour now is what it almost takes.”

He continues his rant on moon conspiracies and the crookedness of our government officials. I never knew I had such an enlightened great-uncle.

JW: “See, the government thinks if a man is working with the government he has no reason to lie so therefore you s’posed to believe him regardless how ridiculous it sounds. That’s the truth.”

Dad: “Boy our government’s a joke. Both parties to me are a disgrace.”

JW: “All of em’ a disgrace. They need to be replaced.”

Dad: “I guess all these other countries laughin’ at us.”

JW: “Yeah. We’re a joke!”

Dad: “Look at them stupid Americans.”

JW: “And I tell ya something else, Wayne. You can betcha last dollar if you live another twenty years you gon’ find out that J. Edgar Hoover had the mafia to kill John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, and...what’s the black guy’s name?”

Dad: “Martin Luther King.”

JW: “Had him killed. All of em’. Hoover was so uptight cause Robert had more goin’ than the president did and he was cuttin’ that man’s power and he didn’t like Robert. And Johnson was a crooked man. You couldn’t trust him. He knew that Kennedy was gon’ be killed! And he was in place at that given time. And then Hoover hated black people. Okay? So he had King killed. You can believe that’s the way all that happened. I’ll believe it and I always will believe it. And the day that Kennedy got killed I came from fishin’. I came ashore wavin’ in myself. And they said that Kenney had been shot and killed and Johnson’s on the plan taking the oath – the sonuvabitch was waitin’ to get on the plane to do it. I knew right then what had happened.”

Dad: “Yeah. It was a conspiracy.”

JW: “But I see a lot of damn things that’s wrong. When you sit down and things don’t look right, if you investigate you’re gonna find out why they don’t look right...because they aren’t right. I’ll tell ya this. The more that you try to do right and be right the more your government will not like you.”

My dad turns to us with a grin and says, “You come out here and get educated. Well children, let’s go.”

I say my goodbyes and give my hugs. It was a pleasant little Carolinian vacation. I drive off down the road up highway 13. Catching up with my mom on the phone.

Back home in Virginia Beach.

Snacking on Cinnamon Peanut Butter Crumpets and Milk.

Cleaning up and getting some chores done.

Garlic, Lentil, Mushroom, and Carrot Soup for dinner.

Watching Murder By Proxy: How America Went Postal (2010).

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] All images by me.

Wednesday December 26 2012

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

I’m trapped on a battleship in the middle of the ocean but it doesn’t house aircraft or anything like that. It’s only function is this mechanical machine built in the center of the ship...a big pool arena where they’re running tests on this new technology. The design is similar to that of the robot shark creature in James and the Giant Peach (1996) or the giant digger machines from The Matrix movies. The team that works here forces society’s delinquents to be a part of the government experiments. But it’s not so bad as it sounds. I only have to be inside the pool arena and merely observe this colossal construction. Here I am wading in the water – waves begin to ripple around me – a line of huge saw discs spinning at the far end of the ship where it opens up out into the ocean. Any unsuspecting victim would be shredded to pieces if sucked up into this thing. Then, I watch ridge-lined rollers begin to press along the surface of the water like a meat grinder. Even though I’m safe from its plunder it’s still all so terrifying. I manage to escape to the top level. I find a few pieces of clothing to disguise my appearance. I climb down to the mess hall where a lot of people are waiting in line to get tickets off this God-forsaken ship. A government worker recognizes who I am.

I reassure him, “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna resist.”

Then I rise from my seat and throw two rocks with superhero speed; they knock him and another down on the floor. A tall black man with four arms marches through the glass doors with intent on crushing me. I hide behind a Hispanic woman. I imagine darting outside on the deck and then flying straight up into the sky.  

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 12:46 p.m.

Oranges. Hot Green Tea with Honey.

Chatting with Aysena on Skype. Briefly she meets my dad, my stepmom, and my stepsister. She was worried about meeting my father for whatever reason.

Me: “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Ays: “I was worried he was going to ask a lot of questions.”

Me: “No. But when you meet my mom she will ask you a lot of questions. But she’s very kind. She’ll just hug your heart.”

My dad and I head into town for some father-son time. Getting lunch at LongHorn Steakhouse.

Salmon Salad with Bread and a Killian.

It’s nice to be able to get down to the brass tax of life – sharing thoughts and ideas on politics, his newly acquired daughter, and memories.

Dad: “I think sometimes God has a purpose for you. And...I’ve done a lot of things in my life I’m not real proud of...some of them good things, some of them bad things but...God’s blessed me and I’m glad I could bless her [Jennifer] and it will totally change her life. If she stayed over there [Honduras], who knows. Now she’s got an opportunity of a lifetime.”

...

There’s a painting on the wall of two cowboys on horses with a western desert backdrop.

My dad points out, “I’d of liked to live in that time.”

Me: “So you wanted to be a cowboy huh?”

Dad: “Well I’d like to live in that day. I think it’d be cool. It’s kind of wild. And you had to live on what you made.”

Me: “Everyone had a horse.”

Dad: “Grow your own food. Raise your own cows.”

Me: “You can go to Texas and do that right now. They got ranches there.”

...

Me: “So what’d you wanna do when you were little? You must’ve had a dream or something.”

Dad: “Ah well you know. I didn’t have much of a choice. Because of what happened to mom and dad I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Me: “Well before you didn’t have a choice, what’d you wanna do?”

Dad: “Well my dad always wanted me to be a doctor. But it didn’t turn out that way. Ha! I always wanted to be a schoolteacher though. Teach school and coach a sport. I think when I retire I might put in to be a substitute teacher.”

...

Dad: “Pretty soon you need to make a choice of what you gonna do.”

Me: “Well it’s not a matter of choice, it’s a matter of getting there. I know what I wanna do. Right now I’m trying to clear the way...like weeding things out of my life that are taking up my energy and time that I could be putting into music.”

...

Me: “Still not married yet either.”

He grins and says, “No. Heh-heh-heh. If you ain’t ready don’t do it.”

Trip back into town with the whole family. On the military base, a place I have many fond memories of as a child when I used to stay with my dad in the summertime. We go bowling; it’s a penny a pin tonight apparently, meaning every pin that gets knocked down you only pay a penny for. It’s funny being here and hanging out for the past two days. I feel like a kid again – my dad pays for everything. Patty and dad sit on the sidelines and watch Jennifer and I bowl four games into oblivion. I can’t even remember the last time I bowled. My hand is amateur for sure. An expert group of oldies bowl in the lane next to us – they’ve got their own custom-made balls, gloves, and everything.

...

Afterwards, we coast through a few nearby neighborhoods that are renowned for having extravagant Christmas lights and decorations in their yard. Then we stop at a McDonald’s for Lattes.

Back at the house. Eating some Pumpkin Pie. Jennifer and I hanging out in the guest room – talking about our family history – talking about what she wants to do later in life: be a doctor or be a flight attendant – snapping photos via webcam (divertido). Qué lindo.

Suiting up in my red hoodie and jogging around my dad’s neighborhood. It’s after 1 in the morning and not a soul is stirring. The wind is brisk on my face. I close my eyes for a minute while running and it almost feels like I’m flying.

Settling in with a plate of leftover Turnips, Mashed Potatoes, and Collard Greens.

Watching Stake Land (2010).

Sleep 3 a.m.

---

[i] Shark Robot. Design by unknown.