TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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06.21.04, monday afternoon
Another week unemployed, my orangepeeler:
Scrubbed house; roasted fistfuls of garlic bulbs & root vegetables; studied transitional expressions; wrote letters of interest to some small press contacts; missed the Claire Rojas opening & a concert; stood at the feet of two major bay bridges; experienced vertigo at an old fort where I perused the culinary regimen of Civil War soldiers; read poems by Naomi Ayala; revisited favorite stories by Angela Carter; checked out Lucy Lippard's The Lure of the Local: Senses of Place in a Multicentered Society from the Cesar Chavez library in Fruitvale; saw Gregory's Girl, a Scottish teen movie from the 80s, part of Jeremy's So Tough British movie nights at El Rio & afterwards ate samosas & black beans with yellow rice at the tiny cluttered social club on Valencia where South American expats come for sangria with their buddies; watched Dark Days, a documentary on homeless individuals who live in the Amtrack tunnels alongside the Hudson; made a bid for a painting job at Lake Merritt & was fed delicious fresh-from-the-oven raspberry muffins; got the calcus of my teeth excavated for cash; shopped for vegetables & Maggi sauce (better than soy sauce!) in Chinatown; & compulsively wrote poems my mother would hate because she told me to write about flowers & leave the family (history) alone. And today, my friend, is the first day of summer.