Woody partied his balls off at the park. We weren’t planning on going. We came up to the corner and he peaked over to see all the dogs running wild, then looked at me with a yearning in his eye, and I caved. And after an 18-dog game of fetch, which he was the prime motivator, he came back to me when I called and we walked back to the apartment to smell freshly cooked bacon. I mean, can you beat this morning?
We were so hungry last night. Talking about quitting. Fuck it, let’s just eat Cheerios. Yeah, and I’ll have chips. I was 60% serious. Not sure about her.
Instead, I came through in the clutch with a plate of turkey, sliced apples, and salted avocado. I handed it to her.
“Where’s the cashew butter?” she asked.
“I didn’t put any on there. This is a savory plate. No sweets.”
“No thank you,” she replied.
Sweet tooths change people.
I gave her a scoop of the cashew and she ate that and the apple and I ate her turkey and avocado. I guess we all won.
Mother fuckin’ plantain tortillas !!!
How have we waited this long?
It tastes like a taco.
Alexis baked some and we ate them with bacon, avocado, and mandoline-sliced sweet potatoes and, I’ll tell you what, I’m a born-again.
Off to take some portraits of a cute little baby.
We stopped at Chipotle on our way home from a newborn shoot with one of my all-time favorite humans, Sarah Clark, and her cool husband J.D. Little baby Tenaya June. Anyway, we just wanted to eat something quick and tasty on the way back. Turns out, their food is garbage. All this time I’ve been duped by the chips and guac. Their chicken and lettuce tasted like cardboard and Alexis is already in bed with the tireds.
The doctor asked me if I was a weightlifter as he looked at my biceps. I flexed and said no. I ordered about 370 tests while I still have health insurance. X-rays on my neck and low back. Allergy test. Physical therapy. He gave me muscle relaxers for shits and giggles. I likely won’t even pick up the script, seeing as though I’m a bit of a sucker for painkillers. Or maybe I will and not tell anyone and just be extremely nice and affectionate for four straight days.
We have discovered Rx Bars. Chocolate Sea Salt. How is this not illegal? It tastes like a Kit Kat. Anyway, I don’t feel good about it. If someone is gonna try to give me shit about the panda bread (I dare you) and then feel fine about eating this chocolate candy bar then I call hypocrisy.
A quick snack of turkey, sweet potatoes, and avocado before dinner. We are having Kairou (Kai – Row) over for dinner and she doesn’t get here til 7:30 which probably means 7:45 and then we’ll talk about life and politics and what everyone has been up to and the two of them will be smiling and engaged but I’ll just be wondering why no one is in the kitchen making dinner because eating is entirely more important than talking. It’ll be 8:30 before we sit down for dinner. Good thing I can eat fourteen more of these chocolate candy bars and not violate any part of the doctrine.
Hoping for two black eyes tomorrow. I picked Alexis up to tackle her on the bed, a regular tradition before Woody, and as soon as I dropped her down he jumped up and smashed his skull right into the bridge of my nose. Felt just like a strong left jab. The sting, the tears, and the rage. Then he came over and licked my eyeballs and laid on my head. So who’s gonna stay mad?
I’ve been really into the word “egregious” lately. I’m not entirely sure what it means but I think it means excessive and in your face.
Okay, so it means outstandingly bad or shocking. Which is more or less what I said. Point is, no one except Vanessa or Joslyn would ever catch me for using it incorrectly. I have that kind of charisma. You just think I know the meaning of the words I speak. I mostly do. But not entirely. Mostly is all that matters.
Well fuck, I deleted all the food pics from today. I cleared the memory card before the photoshoot and didn’t realize that the plantain tortilla mania was on there. It hurts because it was one of the best shots of the month. Alexis is sympathetic and said, “Looks like you don’t even care about the blog anymore.” I told her that kind of comment helps a lot with one’s own upsetness with one’s own self.
It’s question time. A daily ritual between the two of us.
“Would you rather kill a mean person or an innocent puppy?” I ask her. Basically lofting her an easy one.
“The person. Without even hesitating.”
“Okay. Who would you kill, me or Woody?”
“Come on, man! Don’t ask me that.”
“Woody. I’d have to.”
“Really? Look at his sweet face and tell him that.” I turn to Woody, “She would just take you out like it was nothing.”
“Okay, thanks for that, Kirk.”
She doesn’t often call me Kirk, but when she does, it’s because she is not happy enough to refer to me by one of the many terms of endearment.
I am deeply, deeply upset to have lost the pics from this morning. Like maybe I should just hit my head against the wall for a second and we’ll be even. Me and the mistake that is.
I just made myself stare at a pile of raw chicken for a while. I feel…. what’s the religious term… uhh…. repent! …. I feel like I repented.
Alexis must have heard my cry for an on-time dinner. She is dialed up in the kitchen making moves and letting the nips hang. Bras are not necessarily designed for the house. If you can’t be comfortable at home then where is it even safe anymore?
Kairou has just arrived. Notice the time. Notice the time.
We are in the kitchen talking about politics, life, and what we’ve been up to.
Sitting down to eat dinner now. Mango chicken, cauli rice (surprise!), green beans, and mushrooms.
I came in late with a salad for dessert. Lots of fruit. Summer salad in the winter.
Kairou and Alexis are hanging out in the living room talking about an old yoga book. I am debating with myself if I have anything deep inside of me that I can write tonight. More like, can I write something meaningful while conversation is happening rapidly around me. I told Kairou tonight that I would rather sit five feet behind a social group and real-time write about the way they interact with each other than sit within the group and actually socialize. That is who I am. I can’t hear a word without interpreting the 200 words that weren’t spoken behind it. I am far more interested in all of the things we are not saying to each other. Not so much tonight, because we are all close and we are speaking freely, but social environments in general. So I’m slowly learning the art of getting other people to have those conversations without thinking I am actually Jeffrey Dahmer.
I’ll probably just go eat a Whole30 approved chocolate bar now for dessert because Woody is eating Kairou’s sock.
Ready Day 27 HERE.