We went to Long Haul Infoshop
on Shattuck--it was my first time in an infoshop. I had a bag filled with about 25 zines I'd received mostly through trades that I didn't want to keep. And three of my own.
So I spoke with a very nice woman who is the zine archivist there. We chatted briefly like, "Oh, the person who makes this one lives in LA and also makes Food Geek
," and "Yeah, I think he stopped making this because he had problems with his health," and "This one's made by a really nice woman up in Canada." If you know me, you know I'm super-quiet, but the older I get, the more I understand that this makes people uncomfortable, so I go to the other extreme sometimes when I'm scared and chatter quickly.
The infoshop was having cafe night and a movie, so it was busy with people. Would you think I was lying if I told you that Erik and I were the only people there who weren't wearing black? We don't look the part. Me, at least I don't shave my legs, you know. Erik felt stared at.
Afterward I asked him, "How does it feel to be so square?" and he said, "Rectilinear." And then I said something about rectums, of course.
On one hand, such a crowded, cluttered, chaotic place makes me skittish. On the other, this infoshop was my dream-home of radical people with values and activities totally differently-focused than normal life of buying things.... I hope one day we can live in Berkeley, or some other very alive place, and I will help run the infoshop, and I will be so happy and finally have the community I've always longed for.
So I donated those zines, which was a great feeling, because they had been weighing on my mind for a long time--of course, I wouldn't just throw them away, but I didn't want to leave them just anywhere, and at the infoshop they would be appreciated and enjoyed, hopefully.
Then we went for a walk. Berkeley is my favorite place to walk in the neighborhoods because the yards are so well-done. We stopped often to smell roses or lemon blossoms.
At dinner the place
was packed, the music was loud, and the food was lovely. When I'm somewhere that overwhelms me, I tend to disassoaciate, or I think that's what it's called, where you retreat into yourself and pretend everything that's happening isn't really happening. Sort of pretend it's just a dream? I do that when I'm freaked out, or when I know I could freak out, and it saves me. Indian-Pakistani restaurants at night in particular. Crowds in general, which I avoid unless I have good reason to override my aversion.
Erik got high on free chai, and it was a wonderful day despite a difficult morning.