I was driving home from the thrift store
with a bunch of new cloth napkins
and looked up at the sky. I almost hit the brakes, because I was splashed with a wave of intense melancholy
. The sky looked like a damned Hobie
t shirt - it started at dark cadet blue, then faded and segued to deep orange
. Silhouetted against this SoCal
background were the date palms and crappy one story rental house
s that hold more people than their leases allow.
I was struck by the strangeness of being someplace that was distinctly not home
. Arizona is a nice place to visit
, but I don't want to live here. I crave mud as opposed to dust
, and pines as opposed to palm
I finished driving home and washed all of my new
napkins, and made myself some angel hair
pasta. My room mate clogged the kitchen sink - the side with the garbage disposal
- so I got the added treat of clearing out the drain. It was stuffed with ruby red
grapefruit rinds and pulp. While I was completely fucking aggravated
that this mess had been left, I was thankful that it wasn't something meat based, which would surely have smelled much worse.
I am considering feeding my room mate to the terrible seething gimletchops
. He undoubtedly deserves it.