In Front of the Heater
A not bad day, this day; hectic, but not too hectic; a good lunch with MST and MSR at Le Cheval - haven't eaten at Le Cheval in a while - talk of Breads of India opening across the street in November; wondering out loud if this was the same Breads of India that is located in Berkeley on Sacramento at Dwight. Tasty Indian food at Breads of India in Berkeley on Sacramento at Dwight, this light weight state of half conscious dialogue making the day go by in a flash, just as the weekend went by in a flash, just as the first few months of this year have gone by in a flash, just as this life.... Well, we can take the analogy too far.
Too far? Or not far enough?
The ways of the journal. Blogs are supposed to hew to the truth (Justice and the American Way). Journals are given more latitude. Who is the Sole Proprietor, after all? Steve and Chuck wondered as I was making my way to LA for that first meeting if I might actually be a nineteen year old woman working at a sandwich shop in Nevada rather than an "old fart in his mid fifties" who was habited in Oakland.
I can understand their shared nineteen year old woman just out of high school fantasy (the degenerate bastards) but I'm not sure why a sandwich shop in Nevada. Why not a biker bar in Portland? A strip club in Vegas? Why nineteen? Why not twenty-five? Why not hot, forty and looking for LA adventure? Another list of questions to be added to the ever growing list of questions to which we will never have an answer.
A trip down to Stanford Hospital again on Wednesday to talk with the anesthesiologist. A local or a nice IV trip under? How long does it take to recover? Should I schedule myself back to work on Thursday? Life in the fast lane, here in Oakland, two whiskies to the wind, Emmy curled up in front of the heater.