(let's just say) THE BAY AREA:
i like these long waiting periods between trip and write up, because it saves me from going overboard and describing songs heard on the drive and thread counts at my friends' apts and all that bullshit, plus i'm about to leave for the big trip later this week that will make the five hours in a car to sf seem like nothing. as it is now, it's nothing. i'd probably drive that far just to go to a sonic drive-in. not even during frozen beverage happy hour.
[photo: a giant slug seen on a walking trail in berkeley, and if he was on the run from the fires on santa cruz, i should adopt his epic journey into a screenplay.]
so i drove up to sf with (one of my few friends in LA, sam, who's actually moving to SF just as i leave-- lose lose lose!), past cowschwitz, the giant slaughter house that smells like guts, dead guts, and grass that had been housed in guts not much earlier. when we got to the city, sam went on her way, i met friends for dinner, including emily, whose apartment is a catsplosion, and teet, who, as always, fell asleep midconversation on a couch. then i got to stay with paisley at her family's house, where i haven't been to since i was 18, and see her mom and her two geriatric giant black poodles, who got along well with my own golden-aged li'l black poodle, just turning the place into an overnight canine assisted living facility.
[photo: kumar and el, making it work despite their baseball differences.)
[photo: pretty death!]
and we saw a slug and a hawk. not bad.
also, el has a plot in a community garden with peppers and peas and all sorts of good stuff, and other people are growing artichokes and carrots, and it's kind of amazing, because in nh, we're sort of limited to herbs, cherry tomatoes, and squash (and really, you only need to eat, like, one squash a year, and we end up having 300 and bending over backwards to stick it in every pasta, soup, dessert, etc.) did i mention i'm leaving for new england later this week? go celts.
oh, and we saw indy 4, which had, like, a solid hour of "yay, indiana jones!" and another hour plus of "nigga please." it was like a speilberg/lucas time life comp of their greatest moments-- i think the real reason they switched from nazis to commies was because adding a twist of schindler's list was taking it just one step too far. otherwise, all that was missing was a giant shark. plus the skull looked like the head from a "visible alien (tm)" kit bought at a comic book store, stuffed with saran wrap. altho, if you hate shia labeouf (sp? who cares), you'll love watching him get digitally pummeled in the crotch for 15 minutes.
but, back to the baseball game, at least i got to sit behind these fine people. they felt my pain.
and teeter's been giving me shit for being a jock lately, but if you knew homesickness like mine, you'd understand. homesickness and frustration. most days, i wake up to another surprise water shut-off, courtesy of my building manager who i've now decided looks like a li'l/stoner dog the bounty hunter, and the tendonitis in my hip makes me limp so bad that, when i went to a shoppe the yesterday to buy slacks, they saw me gimping through the racks and gave me the handicapped dressing room. oh, and i have to vote for obama now. and i'm driving thousands of miles during a time when gas is laced with platinum for some reason. i know, i know, call the whaaaaambulance, whatever. point is, being distracted by boston teams-- boston, where people are refreshingly crass, where a hundred-year-old building is considered prefab, where there are 500 ice cream stores and my two other baby dogs-- fuck it, it makes sense. and also, i'm nostalgic for larry bird and robert parish. and really, who isn't?
anyway, by the middle of next week, i'll be in texas, hopefully eating bbq'd meats and taking pictures of bats (from several yards away), clear eyed and full-hearted, so i can't lose. unlike in LA, where one can't do anything but.
4 comments:
aren't you a vegetarian?
i run with vegans, but i am so not one. yr li'l logo best watch out, cuz i've eaten bear.
eek
have we discussed my, per your recommendation, three week obsessive consumption of both seasons of friday night lights? it was full-on adolescent-escapist immersion style multiepisode-watching. i spent my nonwatching moments either believing i live in texas, or willing myself there, specifically into the body of tami taylor. i was unprepared for my panther pride.
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