*
Waking up super late again at 2 p.m.
Baked Cinnamon Brown Sugar Grapefruit and Cinnamon Oatmeal with Milk. Orange Juice.
Watching banned cartoons from the 1930's.
Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Banana. Honey Green Tea.
Finishing Last Ride (2009).
Learning this Dyin' Crapshooters Blues song, the Two Gallants version.
At the storage unit wailing on the piano and guitar, polishing up some originals.
Back at the house. There's an impromptu party of select friends sipping on cans of Busch in celebration of Josh's birthday.
Black Bean with Cabbage, Onions, Peppers, Zucchini, and Potatoes.
Kofi, James, Ana, and I go to Wanna B's for karaoke good times. Kofi does a Talking Heads song, I hype up the room with Biz Markie's "Just a Friend", and Ana rocks The Cardigan's "Lovefool". Kofi half jokingly continuously complains about the bar's overpriced menu. He had ordered buffalo wings.
Kofi: "That's a dollar a wing!"
...
Afterwards, stopping by the storage unit. Earlier Stephanie was having trouble locating our garage door (she's been sharing the space temporarily). She's here with three guy friends of hers. They were all kayaking today in the hot sun apparent from the severe redness on their skin.
...
Back home. The rest of the crew goes to Rick's Café while Ana and I hang back picking up a bit around the house. We migrate to my room lounging in the bed stuffing our faces with Chocolate Chip Cookies and Popcorn, watching old cartoons from the 30's and 40's starring Betty Boop, Bimbo, Popeye, and Casper. Pointing out the subtle strange/scary aspects of them and how they might've been inappropriate for kids. But to us they're just entertaining and only make us feel happy.
†
I start to read aloud to Ana the blog entry from last year when I visited my mom in Florida. As she closes her eyes she insists that she's still listening. But halfway through the reading sleep overcomes her. I'm not offended. I open up Unreal and play a few rounds of deathmatch and capture the flag.
It's terribly late, like past 5 a.m. I stop playing and join her in bed. We resituate ourselves. We clamber and caress each other. It leads into an early morning ecstasy that can't be stopped. Even after thirty minutes she claims to not have any lack of energy whatsoever. At some point we stop and actually fall asleep. But before that happens I pause to analyze her naked body lying next to me.
Ana: "What are you doing?"
Me: "Just looking. Man, you are the stuff poetry's made of."
* Betty Boop screenshot.
† Image by me.
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