Friday April 22 2011

Back home from Human Services.

Getting back to sleep around 10 a.m.

Just before 4 p.m. waking up.

Breakfast: Cream of Wheat with Brown Sugar and Milk.

Business.

Organizing—packing—cleaning.

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

Watching Salt [2010].

Pinball Locomotive, Anthony and Kevin’s band, are practicing in the living room—violin, guitar, and Anthony’s sincere Jeff Tweedy-sounding voice.

I lend Richie a guitar pick and a capo to borrow.

Richie: “Thanks.”

Me: “What would you do if I wasn’t here?”

Richie: “Probably dating Margot.”

I grab the guys and we carpool to Norfolk.

At The Taphouse playing a Musicplayer show—quite a few people here including some old faces I haven’t seen in a while. It’s Kal’s last performance with us as he’s heading off to the Coast Guard in few weeks. Feeling proud of the songs and the show.

During Pilot!’s performance—just outside the glass doors—Kelly Jackson and I discussing an explanation for déjà vu and subtle premonitions in dreams, how time is just one big moment—the overlapping of everyone’s existence.

In the poolroom hanging out. Every time I see Zach Gehring he’s holding a fresh full glass of brew. Melissa Rodriguez approaches briefly and asks how I’m doing and other such catch-up questions, which is a strange because I haven’t talked to her in over two years. She’s noticeably a little drunk—she has that permanent smile on her face, similar to Anthony’s actually. She brings up an idea to go to IHOP. Anthony’s standing next to me and thinks it’s a good idea.

Family dinner at IHOP down the street. Sharing stories, jokes, laughter—Kevin continues to do one of the most accurate impersonations of Kenneth, “RUMPEL—STILTSKIN!!”

Eating Viva La French Toast (cinna-stack) with Scrambled Eggs, Hash browns, and a Sausage Link.

A good prank idea: label every single syrup bottle at IHOP with “snozberry”.

I left my book bag at The Taphouse and asked Doug to retrieve it before he came to join us here. It’s been about 45 minutes—he’s sending drunken texts with random letters and misspelled words that he’s on his way with Chad. They finally arrive.

My head’s starting to hurt from all this social stimulation. This is always the case when I play a show and hang out with people. I don’t know how Anthony does this non-stop. I remind him to breathe when the energy reaches certain heights.

Unloading the music gear at the unit with Anthony then off to work.

Newspaper route.

Coast to Coast AM.

Sleep 7:30 a.m.