dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Tuesday, July 03, 2012

Berkeley day

It's two in the morning.  Yesterday M and I went to Berkeley.  Much adventure transpired.  First we sold books.  I sold about six grocery bags full of books for $16, if you can believe that.

Then I copied my new zine, hat genius.  It cost about $13 to make 70 copies of this new zine.  It's short. 

Then we went to a fair trade store and didn't find what we sought.

Then we had lunch with R at a restaurant called Gather.  It was fun.  I had a vegan mushroom sandwich with cashew cheese. 

Then we drove to San Francisco.  R needed to shop at this food co-op called Rainbow Grocery.  That was fun too.  We bought grapes, a seeded baguette, an apricot, some red beans.

Then we brought R back to Berkeley.  She had asked in the car why I'm never getting married again.  I tried to explain.

Then we saw M's mom at this cafe.  It was my first time meeting her.  She was good-natured and kind.

Then we met my friend I at a House of Curries near Telegraph.  We ate delicious foods, though the cashier made a mistake and didn't give us an order of rice.

Then we saw M's children.  We ate ice cream together.  I and I talked about poetry.

Then we gave I a ride back to her place, her folding bicycle in the back of our truck.

Then we drove back to Sacramento, but we got too tired and had to stop near Davis to sleep, where a cop woke us up with his light shining into our window.  I yelled, scared.  He asked for our IDs, which I hate.  He even asked for my ID, and I'm not the driver.  It creeps me out because it feels like a police state when we have to show ID when we didn't even do anything wrong.  Just sleeping by Vic Fazio Wildlife Refuge.

So then we were awake, and we drove home.  I left out our stop at McDonalds so M could get a Coke.  But that's basically our day.  When we made it home, I was happy.  But our stomachs are upset from Indian-Pakistani food, and I'm ready for bed.


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