DREAM: Inside some kind of space landscape or virtual world where there seems to be more distance past where I’m located but when attempting to explore further it’s just planes of nothing. A big blue hand whom we call “Cal”, he’s an oracle or a powerful leader. I confront him about something.
Just after 3 p.m. I wake up.
Breakfast: Toasted Bagel Plain with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.
My DOOM novels came in the mail.
Trip to Alpha Music to get guitar strings and get advice on how to fix buzzing.
Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Mango Oolong Tea.
Trying out a slice of the Peach Streusel Pie I made last night.
Supposed to work at the ice cream shop. Walking up to the entrance of the pier. Something feels refreshingly different. The air is cool and windy. It feels as if a burst of life has been added to all the oxygen molecules in order to heighten my awareness of everything around me.
It’s slow at the shop. After 15 minutes, I get called to help China Wok because their busy. Since Tricia is already working with me, I leave her and deliver Chinese food instead.
On the marquee of a church at the Oceanfront:
RUSSIAN YOUTH MINISTRY
TUESDAYS 630 PM
The city finally fixed that horrendous bump at the end of the off-ramp leaving I-264 onto First Colonial. I was afraid my van wouldn’t make it much further until they did.
A girl in a green sports car with a Puerto Rican flag hanging from the mirror is belching out song lyrics to some R&B song from her stereo and blatantly looking at me. I’m two lanes over. She looks pretty with her ponytail but only in a conventional way, and she’s incredibly off pitch. I just smile at her inability to feel embarrassed, as do the other drivers nearby.
Working an hour at China Wok and making the same, if not more money in an hour than I would’ve working at the ice cream shop for 5 hours.
At home, changing my electric guitar strings. Elliott shows me how to do a “New Orleans Nut Job”, which involves putting a tiny piece of wet paper underneath the string to stop buzzing.
All of us are on the porch. Wesley describes a dream he had last night where he confronts Jeff Mangum of Neutral Milk Hotel, “Hey Jeff…by the way, I don’t really understand your music, like I think it’s over hyped, like that record just wasn’t that great, like I think Pitchfork had it right when they completely ripped it to shreds. I just don’t understand it, the whole like distorted acoustic guitar bullshit. It’s not that great.” Jeff: “Huh…thank you for telling me what you really thought. It’s really great to hear constructive criticism…”
At the storage unit practicing music and doing yoga.
RUSSIAN POKER NIGHT AT 1623.
Drinking Beer and eating Blackberry Cobbler.
A long long long game with 7 players. Roma and Tyler split the winnings and I get third place with my money back.
Eating Edamame.
Having quite a long Skype chat with Verity. Consoling with her my current life situation and catching up. She says something that makes a lot of sense and helps me feel more comfortable with the way things are…“suck it up” basically and see it through. If it doesn’t work then it doesn’t work. “Fake it until you make it.”
Sleep 7 a.m.
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