dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Monday, June 26, 2006

the trip to Santa Maria

We went to Santa Cruz for dinner at Erik's favorite place to get Sri Lankan food. The meal gave a good break in the driving so we didn't get bored.

We arrived about midnight and slept. Saturday we went to Santa Barbara so I could see my special someone. We ate Indian food at Spice Avenue. It was summer solstice parade day, and State St was lined with people and lawnchairs. There was confetti on the sidewalk.

Lunch was delicious, especially some eggplant pakoras with that brown, saly powder--perfect! Melted in the mouth. And I had nice fruit and rice pudding for dessert. After lunch, the streets were even more full of people. "I have to pretend this is a dream so I don't freak out," I told my special someone. She agreed. And we talked of other summer solstice days.

It was a lovely visit. Erik that whole time was walking by Ellwood Beach and napping and sitting. When he picked me up at 7, we went to La Superica for his dinner. I ordered for him. I got furious at some assholes in line behind us talking shit about a fat person. Then I got furious some more about some assholes talking shit about Mexicans. I started raving inside about how spoiled and clueless white Santa Barbarians make their living off the backs of the Mexicans and then do nothing to understand their culture or symapthize with them as people but go to a fabulous Mexican restaurant and order a quesadilla because they know what it is. A quesadilla and a diet pepsi or some shit like that.

I experienced class and racial angst. I watched Erik eat. I hate that patio that makes me feel like an underwater dream. I tried the guacamole and the lovely tacos with the chiles and cheese in them. I tried the chayote tamal. "This is special," I told Erik. "You will never have this again." I tried both salsas and the bean gordita, which had delayed our order for a long time.

Then we went to Goleta Beach and walked on the beautiful wooden pier. It was clean and romantic. It smelled like my youth, like I had to make a special effort not to lapse into my past of ten years ago. The fisherpeople were few and far between. Friends and couples took pictures in the dusk. We listened to the waves and felt our clothes whip around in the wind.

Next day Sunday we had breakfast with my friend Scott and his girlfriend T. We went to The Maya kinda by the mall. I was nervous to meet someone new and did not entirely enjoy my lovely meal. It was definitely substantial sustenance, the beans were good, but I should have asked for some enchilada sauce in which to drench my omelette, as I am wont to do. And then we went to Scott's house and talked two hours about all things and saw some microscopy photos. I asked an indiscrete question that I later regretted though all was well. I feel happy to have caught up with him. And happy to have met his dear girlfriend.

Then we went to Alejandro's house and had a nice though short visit. I got back a book of Chumash folktales he had borrowed a year or so before. I listened to him talk and looked at his hands.

When we left, his mom gave me the best hug goodbye I have received lately other than family. I mean on the warmth, length, and strength hug-rating scale. Maybe because her body feels like the bodies of my family members. And she has such good-hearted and unafraid motherly love.

And then I saw my peeps of the youngest sort and got to hold baby Meadow and kiss her fuzzy head over and over again. Julie hugged my leg and showed us her room. L gave us a plant.

It was a good visit. We drove home and ate at Sri again in Santa Cruz on the way. Bad traffic briefly on the 17 but otherwise okay. Erik forgot the camera at my parents' house, so I can't show you any pictures yet.

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