Before we left I talked Jenifer into viewing the permanent children’s exhibit they have at the museum. We mostly goofed around in this one section called the “Shadow Room” where people can stand against this special wall and it burns a shadow impression of your body onto this big screen for a few minutes, kind of a like a police chalk outline in reverse. It was fun because we were the only near-adults in a room full of children and watching Jen laughing and playing around left me star struck yet again by her raw vitality. When my eyes briefly locked with her aqua soul gems I fell into them until she looked away taking a piece of my heart and severing our psychic umbilical cord. I value those silly moments and overly dramatic thoughts that are forever burning themselves into my brain despite the mysterious significance.
I could write whole sonnets on the power her eyes have over me. How the clear blue excites me sexually and withers my confidence. A long time ago I learned this neat trick about looking into a woman’s eyes, a trick that’s worked many times successfully. When I want to appear as if I’m looking deep into a girls eyes and glimpsing deep down into their soul, something that subconsciously drives women wild for some reason, I just stare at the reflection of light in the sheen of their eye. It gives off the appearance that I am staring through them, seeing inside their persona instead of creepily staring at them. When I try it with Jen however, I am always drawn into the obsidian pools as if they have their own gravitational force, black holes with such an intense power that it warps the universe to one point. Like Pavlov’s dog I still drool over her and describing the spirit of the mood between us would be like trying to describe God with a single name or word.
Kirk moved in with us last week which was a decidedly uneventful experience. I finally responded to Jenifer’s impassioned feelings and when Jim moved out I secreted the majority of my accumulated Playboy subscription amongst his belongings. It was more to show her respect than in response to her nagging; besides, enough time had passed where I could get rid of them without it being just in response to her pressures. I would have gotten rid of them sooner but it became such a big deal between us that if I had let her crappy attitude dictate my decision it would have set a bad precedent rooted in disrespect for both of us. Sometimes as the man I have to bite the bullet and fight for something I don’t really care about if I want to maintain my integrity and trust my decisions will be respected down the road when something comes up that I do care about. No woman wants a pushover for a boyfriend even when their natural instinct is to pussy whip them into being their bitch. It’s just one of the burdens of being attracted to strong intelligent women, every type has their idiosyncrasies I suppose. When it was finally my decision again (I think) to get rid of the Playboys it was no big deal anymore and ultimately unappreciated by Jenifer, but I won’t call attention to any of that. Marriage (oops), I mean dating, is sometimes a delicate diplomacy.
Life is just continuing as usual except we will soon have an entire summer at our disposal again. My visit with James has prompted the possibility of a trip to Colorado very soon. The excitement is sexually titillating.
The past weekend, in response to an ad I saw in the Dallas Observer, we all went to the Kennedy Memorial in downtown Dallas to be extras in a Public Enemy video shoot. It was cool but very tiring because we had to get there very early in the morning to be in it and Jenifer stayed up late with Jerry doing coke while I was at work. She didn’t really want to go down there with us but the clingy woman part of her didn’t want to be left out, so she was pretty much a Grumpasaurous Rex all day until she finally went and slept in the scorching car. It was cool because Dan and I got picked to be Nazis and we’re going to be an integral part of the video.
The premise has something to do with us (the Nazis) trying to assassinate the first black president (hence Dallas, i.e.: Kennedy) and Public Enemy foils the plot. We got to meet Chuck D with all his Muslim bodyguards giving us the evil eye because we were white AND we were strutting around with the Nazi armbands that the film crew said we couldn’t take off between takes. This didn’t go over too well with the crowd of Dallas black people who came down to be in the video since nobody ever told them we were part of the shoot, but Chuck D was cool and took a few minutes to talk to us and sign some autographs since we were fans. Flavor Flav wasn’t there, which was kind of a bummer, but I got some hands-on experience seeing how a music video is filmed. It kind of reminded me of being an extra on television which I haven’t done for a long while. I smoked some weed with members of the film crew and chilled out with Dan who bought a couple of 40’s at a 7-11 and got really drunk. All in all it was exhausting but fun and hopefully we’ll see the finished product on MTV in a few months. Public Enemy’s kind of fallen off the hip-hop radar lately, but back when “It Takes A Nation Of Millions…” and “Fear Of A Black Planet” came out they totally ruled the scene.
We hung up Chuck’s autographs in a shrine on the living room wall. The autographs, the baseball-sized chunks of hail that fell in our yard (preserved for eternity in our freezer) and various Beastie Boys paraphernalia are now the highlights of interest on our house tours. Well, they would be if anyone ever showed an interest in touring our casa. Oh Blah Di, Oh Blah Da.
Living with Kirk is all right; he’s so damn passive about everything and Dan couldn’t ask for a better drinking buddy. It also looks like Kirk is going to start working at the Flying Tomato with us, for lack of a better job. There’s just not much work here in a college town. If you don’t like your job someplace, there are a hundred other kids that can take your position the next day. The employers know this and keep the wages right about minimum. The amount of time our household spends at the Flying Tomato is truly pathetic but we’ve developed a sort of symbiotic relationship. They use us for cheap labor and oddball work hours and we use them for free beer, pizza and laundry. Oh and a miniscule paycheck every once in a while helps to pay some of the rent and school expenses.
Jenifer, David, Gabe and myself had an odd experience after we closed the store the other night. Gabe finally scored enough dilaudin to have our first get together and we attempted to learn about shooting it up. Dilaudin is basically the prescription form of heroin, another thing the government conveniently overlooks in their crusade against drugs. I guess if you’re a big business pharmaceutical company it’s ok to be a drug dealer in America. Truthfully I’ve never had a more aggravating or frustrating experience in my life. We’re so inexperienced with using needles that none of us could get the crushed pills into our veins, leading us to think maybe dilaudin is not water soluble and we had wasted our cash for nothing.
I became so obsessed with getting all the air out of my needle I eventually just squirted the whole yellow concoction out in a frustrated rage that can only compare to my short temper in traffic. The temper that scares Jenifer because she observes the animal in me and doesn’t think I notice her looks of fear. The temper usually reserved for things that people do to Jenifer, the one that caused me to throw beer bottles at a car full of rednecks on the highway after they made her cry. Sorry honey.