The Day Summer Should Always Feel Like

The storm blew south after Tuesday's downpour, leaving Wednesday night clear for the bonfire. Slow start with the regular faces. Played old Columbo episodes in remembrance of Peter Falk. Evening built momentum as the sun went down. Plenty of beer and wine and weed. Jenny riding a good momentum boost from an afternoon spent bumping elbows with the reporting world. I remember Juj and Murphy, Kelly, Brendan, Daniel, three of Daniel's friends, Nick and Ashley, Nick and Jenn, Drew, Arielle, Joshua, Tessa and her roommate (Marissa?), Ely and another girl, and Iven, a guy named Mike with a dog named Borris and maybe two other people. Another good turn-out where I was well intoxicated before the last guest arrived. Found out Daniel and Annie broke up. Found out about Monday evening bike-wine-and-cheese tours. Found out about Graham's Number. Found out about Nick's interview at the Capitol. Found out about Iven's brother leaving for Guatemala. Found out Arielle is moving up to Mt. Shasta for a while, which was big news to Jenny, who, from this wake-up call, is realizing that saying goodbye to her friends is inevitable as Korea approaches. It was neat that Ely was able to come by and he talked about his current video projects and, like everyone else our age, isn't exactly where he expected to be. Jenny crashed early and I called the bonfire over about an hour later, around one, and joined her for bed. I couldn't help but think of how I felt when Sean moved to San Diego and I knew it was hard to digest, watching friends go, but I found it hard to know how to respond as the same thing happened to Jenny. The best advice I have is: life goes on, the memories remain (if you write them down, in my case). 

The next day we breakfasted at Old Soul and then biked to her place to lull about before Jenny went to work and I rode back home. She got her car fixed and silenced the previously boisterous engine that had worn down its mounts. Her newest article was published. Great weather outside, hardly a hint of the storm from Tuesday. I met Erin for lunch at Hot Italian before she left town to visit a friend in Windsor. Nice talk with Erin about the choices we make without thinking them through and how over time we realize how right our instincts were--mainly, my application to the Peace Corps. We parted ways and I hurried home to meet Paul after his eye-appointment and we talked about blogging feedback and maintaining passion for hobbies and we watched part of a Bill Nye episode and I showed him the train level from Uncharted 2, then Paul left a few minutes before Nick and Ashley arrived to pick me up to go see Transformers 3. Shaun met us there. The movie wasn't horrible if you went into it expecting lots of crash-bang-boom with a side-order of short-skirt shots and impossibly resilient make-up. We all rambled for a while about this flawed, beautiful film and then drove back to Sacramento in the purple-orange of dusk when everyone was out enjoying the weather and being with friends, eating on outside patios, driving with the windows down, and the vibe from Sacramento was smooth and cool, just like it always oughta be. Later I rode out to Jenny's once she was off work to cap off what was a really mellow, friend-filled day, a day that reminds me that life is pretty great. 

- Left to Fry

The Day Of The Late-June Storm

After work on Sunday I took a nap and woke up hungry, unsure of where I wanted to walk on this hot afternoon to find food while Jenny was at work and I needed brain power to keep writing. First I have to wait for Arielle to come pick up her car. I got lazy and decided to grab a cheap sandwich and a Pepsi from Grocery Outlet, but then I heard Hemingway's voice in my ear and put the Pepsi back in favor of a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. Ernest knows best. I drank that whole bottle by myself in my room as I churned out another couple pages of prose, killed a character or two, moved the plot forward and brainstormed for future chapters. Then, at some point between sunset and intoxication, Jack came by with a joint and we spent an hour rambling about the purpose of life, Jack's crazy roommates, the pros and cons of Old Soul and the innate human desire to "want more." He left and then I finished writing and suited up for a late-night walk to Jenny's apartment. Somehow we ended up watching the first half of Superbad with Nick and Ashley, smoking more pot, and my rational self finally convinced the Hemingway-inspired reckless me to go to bed. 

I woke up with terrible allergies, but nary a hangover. 

I would've preferred a hangover. I hated my life during that long morning shift, endlessly battling an impending sneeze, a runny nose and red eyes. Felt bad for Cody because I was such a useless lump. 

As soon as I was free, I took a long nap, a shower, gathered my sorry self together and made plans with Jenny to go see Conan O'Brien's documentary at The Crest. I thought this customer, Joshua, was gonna be there but he wasn't in the audience. Oh well. Jenny and I bumped into Ross on the way there and he was hopping off his bike outside of de Vere's, where he was meeting a few others for Pub Quiz Night. The documentary was neat. A nice glimpse behind the scenes. Nice to see that Conan didn't sugarcoat anything. If he was tired after a long day of meet-and-greeting fans, he was vocal about it. Afterward, Jenny and I still had a lot of daylight to spend and so we went back to de Vere's and were in time to join the Pub Quiz game already in session. Ross, Howard, Barbara and Steve made room at their table for us and right off the bat, Jenny's answering a question or two and I get the question about Peter Falk right and our team gets fourth place and it's neat to hang out with these older versions of ourselves and Jenny has a long, important conversation with Howard about journalism and I'm watching her face glow and her eyes brighten as Howard says all the right things to encourage her to keep writing. Then we order dinner. Afterward, Jenny and I go back to my room and it's still early but we're tired and the night fades away.

Today I wake up in a much better mood without allergies. I work with Jessica, who, now with a shaved-head, has to explain herself to a thousand different people and I can tell that's annoying her. I guess that's how Conan gets after signing a thousand posters. I find out that Matty got jumped and beat up on Sunday. He's got the cuts to prove it and though the guy might be a little socially awkward, it's still a tragedy that something like that happened. I'm restless all day because Jenny gave me a good idea for the story and I'm a little over halfway done and all I want to do is write it and finish it and share it. I hang around after work for a while to say hi to Erin and Bobby and Lilly, then head home through the rain-drenched alleyway. 

Rain. I said that. Not just rain, but lightning and thunder. 

In late June.

So now I'm drinking a bottle of wine and writing again. Sean said hello from San Diego and it was good to hear from him, as brief as those text messages were. I've been watching the rain and listening to French music all afternoon, writing. What else should I be doing? This feels perfect. Maybe I'll hang out with Jenny later, but with this weather, it wouldn't be a very fun bike ride. Also she still has my helmet. Also I have to wake up early to open tomorrow, my Friday, anyway. Here's to hoping the bonfire still happens tomorrow night. Here's to hoping I'm not becoming an alcoholic. Here's to fiction and the life that feeds it. 

- Left to Fry

The Day Lost To A Love Affair With Nature

I've been having a love affair with Mother Nature recently, with Jenny, so it's not weird, though it's been sort of an orgy with all the other friends involved. Luckily we're all cool with each other. With all this sun in our eyes, it's been hard to tell who is who, anyway. 

On Thursday it's a trip to the river with Erin, Nick and Ashley and we meet three nice guys with a dog who wants nothing more than to play fetch, and there's a tree shaped like the palm of a hand, warm water and freezing water, shells in the sand, skipping rocks and beer and music and a pipe full of weed. There's bonding time with customers turned friends, coworkers and roommates and strangers, and a cracked-out fella looking for a boxing match, river rats partying around a makeshift slip-n-slide, a topless girl and a handful of Hook references. We leave the river for Suzie's burgers when hunger rings the doorbell.

On Friday, with Jenny and Arielle, it's a drive out to Concow with a pit-stop off 70 for fresh fruit. The Wild Mountain Fair-with-an-e is going on this weekend and Arielle knows Ryan, who will be playing later tonight. This is me and Jenny's first camping trip together. First festival (faire, whatever) together. We get there and we get in for free, somehow, and the place is gorgeous and the trees are tall and the lavender is aromatic and the people are friendly and there's already a band playing reggae music on the main stage. It's a long afternoon of beer drinking, joint sharing, stranger meeting, food tasting, water testing, nature loving, fire watching, people watching, campground exploring and peace discovering. Kids running around with hoola-hoops. Colorful summer dresses and tye-dye shirts everywhere. Live music non-stop. Everyone smoking weed around the giant bonfire. Ryan's band, with the whimsical, nostalgic Germaine, is a reggae outfit that gets shunned to the secondary stage, but the privacy allows for an impromptu dance party with Jenny, Arielle and me in someone's empty dome tent. We weren't allowed to swim in the reservoir because an older woman said the water was policed by the Water Nazi. Also found out Concow was ravaged by a wildfire about three years ago, so it's pretty neat they've continued holding this faire each year since, usually with the proceeds going toward land recovery. We met some Native Americans who built a sweat lodge near the creek and put up a bunch of teepees, which was cool to see, though being stoned and entering this sacred-feeling land was a little overwhelming. When the sun went down, I realized that I'd forgotten how many stars there were. For being as unplanned as the trip was, it went off without a hitch. Jenny and I left early in the morning to get back to civilization in time to rejoin the working class. 

Jessica's back at work, doing alright, still getting occasional waves of nausea, and she's shaved off all her hair and looks like a total badass. Her "boyfriend," Carlos, apparently broke up with her because he couldn't handle the situation. 

Otherwise it's the same old, same old. 

Missing nature. 

- Left to Fry

The Day The Obama Wall Went Down

So they took down the Obama Wall.

Take whatever symbolism you want from this, but really John and Brad only did it to make room for the dumpsters. Now the people who sit outside of Old Soul won't have to smell rotting garbage as they sip their lattes in the alleyway. Can't say I won't miss seeing Obama every morning on my 100-step walk to work, but I also won't miss the stench. That's change I can believe in. 

The bonfire went perfectly. Despite the mercury rising to the 100's during the daylight hours, the evening cooled off enough to allow for a fire and plenty of cinnamon s'more making. Jenny and I spent some time catching up in my room and I gave her the Chrome bag that Lance donated and she talked about her fun experience at Bows and Arrows and getting interviewed for her outfit by Midtown Monthly. Then Kelly arrived so we started setting up the event. The music, the projector, the beer... I put on North By Northwest and Jimi Hendrix. As the sun went down, the crowd grew quickly, this time with a lot of new faces. We had Iven, Shaun, Daniel, Annie, Alan, Brandon, Melissa, Megan, Jessica, Rachel, Michelle, Juj and Murphy, Mike, Drew, Bobby, Lilly, Jenn and at least four other people whose names I've forgotten. The yard was full, the beer was plentiful, the fire was small, the conversation was great, the energy was high and the weather was perfect. I was really proud of everyone for coming out and having a good time. I made new friends out of customers. I found out my housemate Richard's name is actually Robert (awkward...). I talked to Bobby about his friend's literary magazine he's going to be an editor for, and hinted that the story I'm working on now would be a good one to consider. I had a nice brotherly moment with Shaun about his unfortunate crush and the frustration that comes with falling for someone at the wrong time. Iven was wearing those shoes that have toes, and we talked about shooting guns and how addictive it is. Jenny's quote of the night: "Popcorn, like wine, is a fucking miracle." After the Hitchcock movie, I put on Nightmare Before Christmas as the crowd dwindled and it was just a few friends and a joint. Before we knew it, the credits were rolling and it was midnight. Everyone left and Jenny stayed. Definitely one of the most memorable and successful bonfires. Alan said, "This is the bonfire that makes it go viral. Are you ready for that?" and I guess the good thing is the backyard is big enough to make room for double the amount of people that normally come, so long as I get some lights and a ping-pong table on the other end of the yard. It'll be interesting to see what happens next Wednesday. 

Note to self: get more Tim Burton movies.

In other news, there's not much news from Jessica. She's been staying at her grandmother's house. She's scheduled to work on Friday morning, but we'll see. I've got my shift on Saturday switched so that I can go camping with Jenny and Arielle on Friday in Chico. Never been. Heard good things. Shaun's expected departure date is early August. I got my Delta Dental membership card, so I have to schedule a dentist appointment once I get my finances in order. Hopefully get my first cavity or two taken care of by the end of next week. The Washed Out show is approaching. Been writing a lot, really liking this new story idea. 

- Left to Fry

The Day I Shot A Gun For The First Time

On Sunday I drank Red Bull from a champagne glass at work, was glad to see Jason and Jennifer come to Old Soul fresh from their honeymoon, bought a tent at a yard sale from Deb and Sheldon, took a long nap, called my dad to wish him happy father's day and we talked for an hour, spent the evening writing and heated a cheap spaghetti dinner in the microwave that shorted out the power in half the house, then met Jenny at her place after she finished work and we made nachos and talked about the rise of theft in Midtown.

On Monday I had a dream that I couldn't find any of my classes at school and was running terribly late, and on my way to the office I realized that my real-world alarm was going off, and, upon waking, I discovered that I'd over-slept and was going to be late to work. Jenny saved my butt and drove me to work, just in time, and that was only the beginning of what proved to be a very weird day. 

Jessica showed up for the register shift instead of Cody, though Cody was on the schedule. Fairly normal shift. Busy here and there. Good tips. Max and Kat came in with their little baby. Adorable.

Toward the end of my shift, Katie came in with a friend and Katie, who I haven't seen since she asked for her Rushmore DVD back a few months ago, has since cut off her hair (to donate to kids with cancer) and though I expected to bump into her again at some point, it's still something that's hard to predict, so I refused to let it be awkward. We small-talked through the making of an iced latte, then she left and life went on. 

With the weather so hot and beautiful and knowing that Jenny had the day off work, I came up with the idea of biking to Old Sacramento and finding a spot to jump into to river. I extended the invitation to Jessica and soon enough we had a posse and a plan. 

Later, as I'm reviewing the first 20 pages of my story before sending it out for proof-reading, Jenny ties a handkerchief around her hair, suiting up for the bike ride, and soon we're leaving her apartment and riding down Q Street to meet Jessica at Naked Lounge. 

And a few minutes after ordering drinks and taking a seat in the muggy cafe, I look over and see AJ walk by with her guitar, and I say to Jenny, "That's her," and she knows who I mean, and I puzzle over how to react because she hasn't noticed me, yet, and it's been months since we've seen each other, months since Blogger-gate, and I simply don't know how to feel. Are we supposed to catch up? Are we supposed to be nice to each other? I don't feel compelled to say hello. I stay on the couch with Jenny and AJ orders a drink and then I notice that she notices and I sip my mocha and pretend to be clueless, though I feel bad because I'm so much in my head that I'm probably not making Jenny feel very comfortable, but we can't just get up and leave, or maybe we can, but it's too late because AJ walks by. She says something simple like "Hey..." and I reply, "AJ," with equal flatness and a little nod. I knew we'd cross paths again eventually. Hard to predict how such things will go. I still hold a grudge for what she tried to do with this blog, while I'm sure she'll always hold a grudge against me, and since things didn't end on the best note a year ago, that's always going to echo the loudest in our memory of each other.

Next, Jessica meets us outside and we three bike through Downtown to Old Sacramento, where we lock up our bikes to a hand-rail and seek out the nearest ice cream dispensary. Dripping an over-priced gimmick down the side of my hand, I follow the ladies out toward the river, which is flowing high and fast after all that rain and snow two weeks ago that we've already forgotten about, baked by sun. Down by the water, we watch the train bridge rotate back into position after letting a ship sail by. Hooligans are up in the shade smoking pot. A young couple wanders away hand-in-hand. We finish eating a bag of popcorn and talk about how the river is full of dead bodies, then drink a beer each and idle in the shade a while longer before heading back to our bikes in the sun. Jessica knows a neat place about ten minutes down the river where we can swim, so Jenny and I follow her on bikes down Front street and up toward the river-front path that will take us there, and as we're passing the intersection of Front and O, Jessica veers onto the sidewalk and aims to cross the train-tracks carved into the cement. 

Then her wheel catches.

The bike cuts to the left.

Jessica goes flying over the handlebars, hits the cement, rolls forward and crashes into the bottom step of a staircase. I'm about twenty feet behind Jenny, who's ten feet behind Jessica, and we quickly pull over to help Jessica as she sits up and starts shouting, "Oh, shit, oh, shit." She's holding the top of her head and staring dumbfounded at the tracks that caused her accident, confused, and then the blood starts to pour down the front of her face and Jenny and I realize this is a lot more serious than it looked a second ago. We need to put pressure on the wound. Stop the bleeding. Neither Jenny and I have anything useful in our backpacks, but she thinks to take the handkerchief off her head and presses it firmly against Jessica's head. I've got a wad of tissue in my pocket that we use to wipe the blood from her face. In a matter of moments, we're all sitting on the steps with Jessica holding pressure on the wound and I'm calling Nick to see if he can come pick her up and she texts a friend with a van who leaves immediately and so I tell Nick nevermind and we wait, stunned, while Jessica starts to get dizzy and nauseous. We can't see how bad the wound is. Jenny sees her old boss drive by. Jessica says, "I can still tell you guys how to get there," and we shake our heads and say, "We're not really thinking about the river right now." Finally the friend comes, Greg, and he takes her bike and Jessica and they drive away. 

Jenny gives me a hug and says, "We're getting helmets."

We ride back to Jenny's house, still stunned, worried, speechless. We'd rather not just sit around worrying about Jessica, so we drive out to Jenny's dad's house to go swimming and spend a few hours in Roseville. On the way home, Jessica texts me to say the doctors shaved part of her head to give her five stitches and two staples. Later, Jenny reads some of my story while I watch all the cool parts of Sucker Punch, and the weirdest Monday of the summer comes to a close. 

The next morning, Jessica doesn't come in to work because she's not doing so well--she's apparently gone back to the hospital--and so of course the morning rush is busier than usual and Tim has to come out and help me run the register until Cody arrives. This is stressful and awkward but I survive and the tips have added up quickly and, for the stress, I take them before Cody arrives. Working with Cody goes alright but business is slow and we keep running out of things to do, plus I'm worried about Jessica, considering cancelling my plans with Lance to go to the shooting range, wanting to be home, writing. Lucky cut all his hair off. Sonya comes in, freshly married with a fancy wedding ring. I have a nice chat with this French guy, John, about the Peace Corps and he makes me feel good about my choices. Then Shaun arrives and it's time to clock out, and so I hang out with Nick and Ashley and Jenny until Nick and Ashley leave to go check on Jessica, and Jenny and I wait for Lance to arrive and in the meantime I'm still in a weird funk because of everything strange that's been happening lately. Finally Lance arrives and we leave for the shooting range. 

All the stress and worry I'd harbored during the day disappears with the first six bullets I fire from Lance's revolver. Then, when I take a turn with the 9mm, I become addicted. There really is nothing quite like firing a gun. The explosion in your hands, the bullet, the burst of dirt, the hole in the target, the recoil, the loud pop, the smoke, staring down the sights, pulling the trigger. Felt good to have fairly decent aim, too, with this being my first time firing a real gun loaded with real bullets. Hit the center of the target with the first shot from the 9mm, which made shooting the revolver feel like using a staple-gun. 

We were there for a while. We used almost all of the ammo.

Afterward, Lance explained what it is, exactly, that he does for a living as we drove back to Midtown and stopped at Suzie's to get hamburgers and milkshakes. 

Tomorrow's my Friday. I can't wait.

- Left to Fry