2003-05-30 - 12:52 p.m.

Here are some photos of the KDVS Dance party I went to on Saturday Night.

Rob starts stripping

Rob keeps stripping. (Teresa is in the blue

Rob is stripped (Jackson has his mouth open)

Hoang sports a Jesus shirt

Dan in the shirt with blocks flirts with a 17-year-old.

Watch as I am about to get rejected by Caitlin on the right side of the photo

So now you know some of the characters of this journal

5/25.2003

I wake up Sunday morning. Where the fuck am I? I’m at my friend’s apartment sleeping in his roommate’s bed because his roommate is out of town. I hear a baseball game coming from a hundred feet away. Chris lives by a little league field. I remember I have to baby-sit my nephew today. My mother called me yesterday morning and asked me to pick up Nephew Jason from church. I have never been asked to baby-sit my nephew in such a formal way before. I have to be responsible for his whereabouts and safety. I have to be 30 miles away and I have to be there in 45 minutes so I have to get out of bed.

I see picturesque America at the baseball diamonds in front of Chris’s place. I wonder how Chris can sleep for hours or days or almost weeks with all this racket going around. Or maybe this is why Chris is an insomniac. Chris is the type of guy where his days are longer than the rest of us. He stays awake for 72 hours and sleeps for 24 hours. But how can he with all of these screaming children and hollering parents that are just a few feet away.

I realize that I need to run to my car. It’s easy to get from Davis to Sacramento in 45 minuets. But my problem is that I am at the corner of F and 14th, while my car is at the corner of B and 2nd. I have to run 16 blocks then drive 30 miles and do it all in 45 minutes.

As I hurry down the street I realize that I haven’t showered in a couple of days. I realize this because there are stamps all over my hands and wrists. Stamps they put on my wrist at the Battle for the bands, where I drank cans and cans and cans of beer. A stamp on my right hand for when I went to Sophia’s Bar. Another stamp on top of that for when I went to G Street Pub. The stamps may be temporary but the liver damage will last forever.

The stamps get me thinking about tattoos. Josh F. has several tattoos and the other night women were ogling them. It’s funny because he got them when he was drunk for erroneous reasons. He has praying hands on his shoulder, praying hands that are holding a cigarette. Hands that pray for his soul. God can see that he tries to be holy, but every human has vices so he’s smoking. Maybe god would smoke if s/he was walking around the earth. If you can’t die then you can’t get cancer. But I think God can die. We were created in God’s image and humans die so God can too. I think God is dead. When’s the last time someone saw God? It used to happen all the time in biblical times. Now. Never. Only crazy people see God. So if god is still alive they God is most definitely crazy. That works with the pace of life. You get old, you get crazy, you get dead.

The funny thing about Josh F. is that I didn’t like him when I first met him in my fiction class. He was very off-putting. I thought he didn’t like me. He wrote a few crazy stories about a delusional drunkard. He told people the honest truth in the class. After a few weeks, after he told me my story sucked, I respected him. Now he’s one of my favorite Davis writers. He tells me that he tried not to like me but now he does. Hey, now he has tasted my urine and shoved his face in the crotch of my pants. Great bonds are made over the consumption of booze.

I like it when people dislike me. If someone dislikes me then I want to get them to the point where they hate me. But then I want to change their mind. I want them to go from hate to love. Former enemies make the best friends, I’m sure. There is just more passion involved. I’ve never really done it, but it is my goal. Have the world hate me and then slowly but surely – love me.

I drive to the church that my mother goes to. I used to attend it twice a week for ten years. It shows, doesn’t it.

My mother has left her keys in the car. And also this card that I need to pick up Nephew Jason. I need to show it to the nursery people so they know I’m not a kidnapper. Do I look like a kidnapper?

I walk into the nursery and the woman already knows who I am. My mother talks a lot and actually works at the nursery of church so I’m sure this woman has seen photos of me. I walk into the room where all the children are to pick up my nephew. They 4 year olds are watching a video about some Bible Story. The kids look over at me. They are curious of the freak that just walked into the room. This is a very wealthy conservative Baptist church. Everyone looks normal. All white men look the same so I have a hard time telling the difference between all of these god-fearing suits. The kids all look the same too.

My runs up to me and gives me a hug. The other kids are more intent at staring at me then the video. Already I am corrupting these children to turn away from God. Jason wants me to help him with his shoes. And so I do.

He asks me if we are going to take my car. Jason is obsesses with modes of transportation. I used to date a girl that drove a 2001 Mitsubishi Eclipse. Jason loved that car. I am going to drive my mother’s station wagon downtown where she is singing in the church choir for a Memorial Day celebration. I don’t want to have to take the car seat out of the car and put it in my mine so we aren’t taking my car. This doesn’t disappoint Jason though because Jason is afraid of my driving. As I go along the streets he says to me to, "drive slower." I tell him "I’m going the speed limit." He says, "don’t roll the car over, Uncle Robby." This kid can’t get over how I rolled my car over once. I think I learned my lesson after a week in the hospital and brain damage and how I’m always in some sort of constant pain because my bones got shook up like dice in a yatzee cup.

I grip the steering wheel at 10 and 2 o’clock. Like an old man. Because I realize it would be fucked up if I fucked up and fucked us up. If I did roll the car over or get into an accident it would bring enormous amounts of sadness to my family. Both Uncle Robby and Nephew Jason dead. God damn, I think my mother really would kill herself.

I talk to Jason about what he did at church. I sing along to the Reggae music being played on kdvs . I accidentally refer to Jason as just Jason. He reminds me to call him Nephew Jason. This is something that I started myself. I figure if he calls me Uncle Robby then I should call him Nephew Jason. Nothing more excessive then clarification.

Downtown I park by a meter that says no parking. But there is a bag on the meter. There are bags on several meters and people are parked their. It’s the Sunday before Memorial Day, I know my mother wouldn’t park there but I’ll gamble.

I walk to the capital with Jason. He talks to many people that walk by. He’s an extravert. How would have thunked it. An extrovert in my family.

At the capital I see my mother on the steps and I sit down on the lawn with Jason. He asks me to fix his shoe. After a couple of minutes he wants a drink of water. I take him to the fountain. Then we go back and sit down.

After a couple of minutes he tries to get up and run off but I grab his shirt and sit him down in front of me. I tell him he shouldn’t run off like that. Just sit and wait until Grandma is done singing. I rarely do anything for my mother. I think I owe her (because of that whole giving birth to me thing) so this is the least I can do. Plus, I am Nephew Jason’s favorite person in the world so he likes being around me. My sister is sick and needs a break from her son, so I can’t be a badass. I have to be a family man.

Damn. I’m at a computer lab and I have to change rooms because a class is coming in. I will continue this later.

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