Lovely breakfast... nice to bring Rook to a place I enjoy... visit to the Italian deli where I got a nice tin of olive oil, some anchovies, and a box full of fancy groceries to send to my mom and dad so they can have their own proustian moments. If only I could send them the ambiance of the deli with the dudes in paper hats and the gossip flying about international artichoke prices and The Game (what game? I'll never know.) I bought Moomin some socks at one of the crowded stores on Mission; they all stock the same stuff and are all run by Chinese people. I wonder if they compete, or are all owned by related families or friends, or some kind of consortium? Surely they all get their stuff from the same import/export company.
BART is weary and dingy, loud and stressful compared to the glories of Caltrain, as always... but I still have a happy cityish feeling. Rook asked me what stop? and I answered him as if I knew. He didn't catch me out! Then he realized when I brightened up at a corner at the 2nd st. sign. Huzzah, savor the uncertainty! We looked into the Cartoon Museum bookstore, then SFMOMA. Not for the first time, I thought of how much money and space churches suck up in our communities and how much nicer it would be if all those resources went instead into libraries and art spaces that would be beautiful community temples of doing stuff. And, you know, why not get your community at the bookstore/temple/cafe/laundromat? Screw churches.
Back on Valencia again... some photos, and then to the cafe... we talked about rpg stuff, thoughts on what we'd want a conference to be, and where - theory and games, mixed, maybe one programming track - maybe try to become another track at an existing con - we ate croissants and sank into the spell of our cosy computers - Then to the Buffalo X to see if they had some pants for Rook - they did - and after resolving that my book splurge meant no new boots, i... I found the perfect red boots for 20 bucks and bought them. I had my eye on some expensive fluevog boots. But these are great and I'd rather have the books! At some point it's going to be cheaper for me to fly to buenos aires, buy them and ship them. Soon... soon I'll have the 1906 edition of that cuban anthology where they didn't leave out all the women poets! And didn't just leave in 2 of them! And didn't just put in one of their dumbest most sentimental-drivel poems! Anyway, I was going to go over my book-introduction rough draft with Rook, but then didn't.
I'm thinking tonight (again) that the best thing I could do with this info is post it on the spanish & english wikipedias. An entry for each poet & a sample of their work. I could submit to Palabra Virtual, but I'd rather have control and I'd like to write mostly in English. I'll try Spanish too, but then someone else will correct it when it's awkward. Then, too, I can create my own genre entries and interfere in modernismo/vanguard stuff that's out there already. The author bios are hard for me to write, but I can at least put a stub and hope for others to contribute.
We went and hung out with Chula for a little bit, just to say hi. She was sort of bubbly and glowing today even though in mid-novel-revision, perhaps end-of-week euphoria. Then we ran off to pick up Moomin. Foolishly, Rook accepted directions from me again though I told him I was "exploring". My experiment succeeded and now I have another piece of the map clear in my mind! One cuts over on Church to Clipper, then up to Portola. woooo!
Moomin is a bit dreamy, odd, and listless; then hyper and whispery. I think he must have had some social difficulties in zoo camp, after all, from the way he's been cagey about it and kind of perturbed.
I made dinner - antipasto and potstickers. Hey, it's what was in the house. Laundry. Dishes. Blogging and photo-messing. Rook is typing up notes from our Polaris game from last week. Read Angry Black Bitch - and Twisty Faster - bathed Moomin - played "purple horned starfish horse yugioh wars" and then pretended to be Superman's cats - tried to watch "Iron Monkey 2" but it sucked so hard we stopped in the middle - bath - messed about with my gross, gross, but now much cleaner, tonsils, and I will spare you the details - Read Seneca - and now perhaps another glass of merciful brandy and hot milk.
That's the shorthand... useless to anyone but me... I just wanted to remember this day b/c it was so nice. The usual Deep Thoughts will go unwritten... others will replace them. Enough that I insulted the memory of some hapless SFAI prof and his ugly hand-ground pigments.
I'm worn down to a tiny pale echo of my usual self from all this activity!
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