DREAM: Driving north on Birdneck Road about to take a left on VB Blvd. On the other side of the street…a parade of giant grey haired horses, each lying on their back or side resting, but their positions look really strange for a horse. I want to capture a photo with my cell phone but the cars keep moving and I don’t have the time. At the head of the horse line I spot what I can only describe as the abdominal snowman. He’s at least 3 stories tall. His eye is on my car. He makes advances in my direction. The scene pauses—he pauses. And I have a chance to drive forward out of his vicinity.
Waking up just after 1 p.m.
Banana. Figs. Orange Juice. Zinc.
Cleaning—organizing.
Lunch: Peanut Butter Bagel. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.
With Becca, Alex, and Darren—we traverse to Blackwater Vineyard near Pungo for grape picking. It’s a beautiful day with sunshine roasting our bodies. Filling our bellies with Muscadine and Scuppernongs, which are plentiful. Bees buzzing beside us as we search for the best ones. When we leave, in the distance we can see the storm front creating a defined horizontal line, dark and ominous—lightening cracking through the sky. The rain pours in bucketfuls as we enter our neck of the woods, a completely different weather setting than when we left.
Quick stop at Anthony’s thrift store for some goods.
Hot Yoga session…
“Stillness is not the absence of movement…Stillness is the absence of conflict…”
Dinner: Tofu and Egg Pad Thai with Mixed Vegetables.
Watching Cleaner [2007].
Baking Chocolate Chip Cookies. A successful first batch.
My cell phone has a unique feature where you can hear a female robot voice recite any text message. As soon as I share this with everyone they start sending me silly sexual derogatory messages and I replay them through the stereo. This causes an uproar of laughter…In the mean time my second batch of cookies is forgotten about…
Me: “Oh shit! I forgot the cookies!”
They’re black and crispy…
Anthony: “You win the Hampton Roads most burnt cookie contest!”
James: “These look like crushed dreams.”
I get a wave of energy to play guitar in the dining room—looking up lyrics online—singing Arcade Fire songs and old songs I used to play back in the day—Anthony jams along with the electric organ and acoustic.
And if my parents are crying,
Then I'll dig a tunnel from my window to yours
Yeah, a tunnel from my window to yours
…
Turn to the right it’s more attractive
Don’t speak like that melodramatic
Say what you want but do not say that
Take me to bed but do not do that
…
When daddy comes home, you always start a fight
So the neighbors can dance in the police disco lights
…
Leslie, one of Anthony’s friends that has made a few appearances here before, is doodling on the floor in her notebook with marker. Once I pull the MxPx songs out from under my sleeve James joins in…we both remember almost all the words to every one.
Couldn't understand what she was trying to say,
I finally figured out that I was in her way, now I'm okay
She wasn't too down with rock and roll scene,
She wasn't too down with the pain that it brings, oh yeah.
She sprouted wings and flew away.
…
You didn't have to be so mean to me
I guess now I see how it's gonna be
I'm joining GSF (Girls Schmirls Foundation), I've made up my mind
Forget this thing called love, it's a waste of time
Girls ain't no good anymore, anyway!
Anthony: “James, I didn’t realize you were an MxPx dictionary.”
Phew. I haven’t sang like that in a while. It feels good to belch out these melodies and facilitate a musical happiness.
Popcorn. Name Tag Lager.
Sleep 5:30 a.m.
1 comment:
this sounds like a good night. im all about mxpx and would like to have been there for that.
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