[i]
DREAM: A girl I’m vaguely familiar with takes the stage but the stage is not a stage. It’s a muddy field. She dances and sings, performing her heart out. The audience and judges are in the distance paying attention to her every move. She jumps off a mound and slides in the mud on accident but pretends to do it on purpose.
Waking up at 11:40 a.m.
Instant Oatmeal with Flax Seed. Orange Juice.
Vaginasaurs practice at Stephanie’s house. Sarah’s feeling “wonky” so we end early.
Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Tortilla Chips with Guacamole.
Watching The Good Thief (2002).
Slicing and washing the potatoes for frying later.
My head really hurts and I’m in no mood to be around a ton of people but so it goes. Show N Tell is tonight whether I like it or not.
I drop by Margot’s work to confront her about earlier. She had called me sounding super upset because a friend of hers mentioned the angry voicemail that I posted last year on the blog. It’s a really touchy subject because the words and attitude on that voicemail are embarrassing and I pretty much exploited her for it. I didn’t think it would get that popular. I deleted it but people still talk about it. Either way, here I am in Harpoon Larry’s. It’s very busy. She’s not thrilled to see me. We talk briefly outside but nothing is accomplished and she has to go back to work.
...
I feel more stressed out than usual. Feeling a headache coming on...
I get called into China Wok for an hour and a half. Delivering a mere six orders.
Then back to the house. The show n tellers start piling in two by two. Running smoothly except our house is too small to fit everyone. A Bob Dylan poem is recited. Love letters from World War II are read. Guitars and violins played. Off-handed jokes and constructive thoughts are shared.
Reverend Warren Darrington...
Darren and Kevin take the mic...
Darren reacts to being commodified on Facebook...
Frying all the potatoes, which turn out to be a hit.
Wheeler is here. I know her via Stephanie and have seen her at a few other social gatherings. Her nickname given is because of her resemblance to the Asian character in Captain Planet who represents fire. She brought the house homemade Kitchari as a gift, made with Red Lentils and Rice and topped off with Mung Bean Sprouts and Calamansi (a miniature orange sort of fruit) that I enjoy thoroughly as I haven’t had the time nor the appetite to eat dinner earlier. I am grateful.
...
There’s something about her that is calm and mysterious. I’m not necessarily attracted but undoubtedly curious. We haven’t shared a substantial amount of words yet, just sparse conversation, at least in the physical realm. As odd as it may sound I do sense a spiritual communication that is unspoken except in a cryptic silence. I don’t want to confuse this reflection as bait to reel me out of my river of comfort, even as I might need to get out of it. There’s not much to speak of just yet.
The party continues. The mingling and the chatter go on. The beers continue to be drunk (not much for me). But my social health bar is low and the headache worsens leaving me with no choice but to retreat to my room and lock myself in. Little do I know the rest of my night will end in a pounding booming ballad.
...
Lying in the bed hoping to get in touch with Margot at some point. I told her I would call her after Show N Tell settled down but she also said she would be “blowing off some steam” after work and made clear that she didn’t want to talk with me.
I text. And I text. I call. And I call. No response.
It’s after 2 a.m. and she’s ignoring me. Not like her at all. I’m a little offended and worried. But after continuing to hit the call button over and over I finally get through. She was out of course at Poon’s, or whatever other bars, with friends drinking. And now she’s home but still with friends, one of whom I find out is a person I am not comfortable being around her because he’s the guy that made out with her back in January, attempted to do it again, and continues to iterate his admiration to her. And not to mention everyone is drunk. Not a good situation in my eyes. Even though it’s a group thing and she can stand her own ground I feel uneasy and set aside. I threaten to come over. And things escalate from there. Her roommate, Emily, is woken up from all the phone commotion and speaks to me briefly taking on the role of mediator cool-headed outsider. Margot gets back on the line...more argumentative discourse then hang up. Her friends left and now she’s even madder blaming me for ruining her night. From here on out there are no more conversations, as you would call them, but more along the lines of “Shut the fuck up and let me drunkenly rage to you, Robert!” She’ll call and I listen. She hangs up. I snooze then she calls again with more dramatic realizations. Eventually, she convinces Emily to drive her over to my house and say a few things to me in person outside in the Chanticleer parking lot but that doesn’t get us anywhere either. Margot gets back in the car. Emily steps out of the car and mediates once again...making a lot of sense.
I walk off and say to Emily, “Tell her I love her.”
Her: “That’s not going to change anything.”
I finally get off to bed at some late hour.
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