[i] DREAM: Up in the sky. Old airplanes circa WWI with medium size trailer homes stacked on top of them zoom down and crash into the ground. I thought it a strange sight and so do the other people around me. Suddenly I watch as a black Frisbee going at least 60 miles per hour zooms down and slices a big gash through the stomach of a person nearby. It’s the Frisbee Apocalypse! More and more at random start falling from the sky. There’s no sign of where they’re coming from—no human is behind this. It’s mayhem as they continue to soar past the others and me. Dodging them left and right. Climbing an abandoned wood structure—stairs—ladders—windows. I discover that you can put out your hand and catch them before they hit you and you’re safe from their recklessness.
Waking up sometime in the afternoon. My car won’t be done till later. Cuddling with Margot. Being cute. Tumbling in the bed. No touching. No sex. Just more calm sweet moments. I feel resolve. No distance. But still there’s a wall blocking a pile of historic romance.
Orange Juice. Zinc.
Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Cranberry Kombucha Tea.
Vaginasaurs rehearsal at Stephanie’s place. I’ve dubbed her house as The Castle. I set up decent microphones and record live sessions of our songs. There’s something enchanting about these little amateur tunes—this doo-wop garage bedroom pop.
Eating Potato Latkes and a Spinach Apple Salad.
Blue M&M’s. Brown Rice Green Tea.
Stef and Sarah come hang for a bit in my room...
Sarah: “We’re like your step children or something.”
Sharing Edamame and Chicken Noodle Soup downstairs. There’s mild text drama with Margot because she wanted me to visit her at work. I share out loud the correspondence and it becomes comically cute and entertaining. But it’s strange to me yet not surprising how there are these expectations of priority. I told her I was with people, specifically with my Vaginasaur mates, and her response is...“Nice that you choose those biotches over your ex gf.” and “I just should know by now that I come last with you compared to your new girlfriends.”
Oh, Margot. You don’t change. I’ve partly taken comfort in this...the idea of people not changing.
I turn the radio on to some classical station...
Me: “This is what I need. Calm. Stef, we should make a movie about calm...a character who strives to be calm in a world full of chaos and destruction.”
Sleep 4:30 a.m.
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