[i]
DREAM: Riding in a car. Jimmy, my stepdad, is driving. My
mother and I are in the back seat. We have to crunch together because there’s
too much luggage. She is lying down next to me. I use my purple book bag to
prop myself up. Three television sets on the dashboard playing music videos. My
mother has gotten a lot older, so much that Jimmy says she isn’t able to cook
anymore. Her body hasn’t aged though. Jimmy shows me these craft-like things
she’s been getting into making – oval shaped balls in different colors attached
to straws. It looks very Japanese. The scenery outside the window changes to
Japan. We can see all the unique Japanese architecture and signs. Because we’re
still lying down together, we can only see just above the horizon of the
windows.
Just waking up, lying in bed for a few minutes. 3 p.m. I get
up.
Brianna leaves a note by the sink that reads:
“DO NOT GO IN HERE. DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU.”
The sink is full of soapy water and has a fishy smell to it.
Breakfast: Hot Oat Bran with Cinnamon, Brown Sugar,
Blueberries, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.
Our electric bill is abnormally low. Talking to Kenneth
outside in the rain about it. We discover my van is covered in mulberries from
sitting under a mulberry tree. I had parked it there last night. Collecting
them into a mason jar.
I go to Trader Joe’s and Big Lots.
Arriving back home, a man who looks like Kevin Smith (or
rather Aaron Lachman) is here to test our water. He claims he talked to my
“girlfriend” and that she said it would be okay to stop by today around 5 p.m.
Me: “That was probably my roommate.”
I invite him in.
Man: “This must be some art house or something. Are you guys
a bunch of artists?”
We discuss the quality of Virginia Beach tap water. I tell
him I drink the tap water regularly. Apparently, just having the water sit
without a lid in the fridge or in a room will get rid of the chlorine and
gasses. Because I’m not the owner, he isn’t able to do any tests. I find out
he’s just a salesman trying to sell water filters for homes.
Leaving the house the man says, referring to my roommate:
“She’s a cutie…”
Upon reflection, I realized I became fearful of tap water
after talking with the man. Instilling fear is the most effective way to sell
or advertise a product. Fear is the reason we choose certain products over
others. Somehow, through devious marketing, we’re convinced that whatever brand
name we prefer is the safest and better choice.
Lunch: Tuna Salad Sandwich with Lettuce and Tomato. Salt n
Vinegar Chips. Oolong Tea.
Songwriting.
Practicing at the storage unit with Chad and Chris for the Musicplayer
show this Wednesday.
Chad and I go to the Norfolk Greyhound station to pick up
Guillem, a traveler from Spain that contacted me through www.couchsurfing.org. He’s staying at 1623
for a week. We grab him and meet Becca at Waffle House. Becca runs from her
house to the restaurant in the pouring rain – it takes her exactly 15 minutes.
Dinner: leftover Alfredo with Broccoli, Coffee, and a
Waffle.
Guillem eats his very first Waffle.
Waffle House employee, on his experience upon first arriving
in Virginia from California: “Why are people in Virginia so sweet? They’re so
sweet my teeth hurt.”
Chad puts on 14 tunes from the jukebox including 3 or 4
country songs in a row.
Big discussions ensue – Guillem’s travels – entertainment
and humor in American culture.
Me: “Society trains us to laugh at things…”
…
Chad, referring to certain laugh tracks that were recorded
years ago and still being used today: “Most people on those laugh tracks are
probably dead.”
Me: “That’s really weird.”
Becca: “That’s morbid.”
…
Me: “I can see myself when I get, like, really older…”
Chad: “You’re gonna be 70 years old still living at 1623…”
Laughter.
Me: “…still doing Show N Tell…getting really cranky about
everything…’Sign up on the board!’”
Chad: “Like, people still come…it’s still tradition.”
…
Chad: “Where’s Phil been?”
Me: “He’s on a farm in northern Virginia bailing hay!”
Becca: “I can see him working with horses…like talking with
them and stuff…like being a horse whisperer.”
“The Kid Informant” walks in with his grandfather. They sit
at their usual booth by the window. Becca and I joke about how they would
systematically show up every Monday when we were there.
Back at home, Rachmaninoff on the record player – Guillem is
lying on the red couch reading War on Peace by Leo Tolstoy.
An Egg. Two pieces of Toast with Blackcurrant Jam (the
heels). Kiwi. Milk.
Songwriting at the storage unit.
Sleep around 7:30 a.m.
[i] Image by me.
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