Thursday & Friday things seemed behind schedule all day. When I was finally finished with Friday afternoon I came back and slept for an hour or so. Then I woke myself up with a caramel macchiato from Java City and headed south to Jordan’s house in Spring Hill, as his fam was out of town for the weekend. He & Heather (whose hair is now magenta) were upstairs sitting in front of the computer all stoned & listening to music. I shared my weed with them & we smoked a couple more bowls. Played Niandra La Des & Usu. Just a T-Shirt for them: the part in “Mascara” where the guitar goes staccato (staccatissimo, even!) & he sings “You’re the one that makes me ree-o-lize…” made Jordan laugh. I was relaxt & comfortable, but lacking energy and didn’t feel like going out in public or doing stuff. Heather soon left and me & Jord were hungry, so we drove to get Taco Bell. Made interesting conversation there & back, talking about societal structure and how America has fared as a powerful global culture. I lookt around at the darkend houses in clusters under the purple-black sky, wonderd if there’ll come a time when they’re empty & abandond on a night like this, or occupied by various nomads in some kind of post-apocalyptic Midsouth…
I like hanging out with Jordan, but guiltily felt annoyed with him as I tried to watch television—he kept wanting to show me things on the Internet, which would require me getting up off the comfy couch & walking across the room to laugh politely, and I was just too baked. Eventually he laid down on his futon & I on the cool leather couch, and we fell asleep watching a show about the Bermuda Triangle.
Spike, the baby wienerdog who whimperd in his pen all night, woke me up in the morning by jumping on my face & licking me. I immediately grabbed him and threw him off—like, across the room, in fact. He yelpt. I was astonished at myself. “Damn, Jude, he’s just a puppy!” admonished Jordan, who’d gotten up before me & let him out. “I mean, I hate his stupid guts too. But still.” Little guy was OK but he steerd clear of me from then on.
It was nice having that airy new exurban house to ourselves, observing the fresh paint and fluffy carpet and spotless upholstery of the upstairs den. This is the Martellis’ dream home, the one they’ve workt towards since leaving the West. His younger siblings have their own rooms; Jordan sleeps out in the open between screens. The daylight filterd in thru the shutters onto his computer-corner & was reflected blurry in the TV. I channel surft, he played video games. We smoked half a joint left over from the night before (a joint I had rold, a fatty that didn’t burn unevenly—I was proud) blowing it all out the window. The sky was thinly overcast.
When it was mid-afternoon I decided to roll out of there, and stopt by the parsonage in Malvern. Will was over at a friend’s house. Mom’s been sick—bathrobe, hair down, surrounded by cats & pillows in her room (Dad stays on the other side of the house whether she’s sick or not; they’ve had separate rooms for years now)—& per usual she seemed in complete awe of her nearly grown son, her youngest, off at college & learning to be on his own. She was doing everything she could to not reach out and stroke my arm or pet my head. Dad tells me to be thankful I have a mom who loves me so much. Of course, she loaded me up with Granny Smiths, Reese’s Cups, and 3 bags of popcorn, as well as a book she wants me to read, all in a big brown paper grocery bag. I hugged her goodbye & headed back to campus.
Since then I’ve been chillin in the dorm by myself, playing guitar & watching TV, drinking Dr Thunder. Going out for a smoke & driving back into town along the winding Cumberland—this is relaxation defined.
At our last show I exchanged emails with a girl from Murfreesboro named Tabitha, and boldly/casually offerd to smoke with her this weekend, but she never replied. Jeremiah has befriended her friend Emily & evidently she told him “yeah, a lot of guys are smitten with Tabitha…” They must think I have this cutesy crush when I was only trying to play it cool & get to know her, for real. Sucks to be misread like that. Shit. How else is this suppost to work? Jerry wants us all to go out for coffee tomorrow night, but I doubt she’ll even want to go.