I usually am very friendly, to remind people there is a sane person behind the hat, or I tend to do what I did to one young woman today who insisted on staring at me non-stop with an expression that made me want to crush an egg on the side of her head. "Stare much?" I said with my expert deadpan voice. That made her look away QUICK. I know -- not very mature or evolved of me, but I never said I qualify as either.
I took a trail I'd been wanting to do for a while. It's cut right into the side of the mountain and it's simply beautiful. I kept going because last time I did this trail, my brain was on carbs. I couldn't find the direct route down. But I was determined to try again, and got it! Unfortunately, my brain did not think about the fact that I would not be able to avoid the last two mile stretch. I didn't bring a cell phone either. There are no buses in this part. And it is HOT and exposed. By the time I was ready to be done, I still had another two miles to go with the sun blazing on me. And as I am sun sensitive, unlike normal people with their little tank tops and tiny shorts, I am completely covered. So it is HOT. And I had enough. But fortunately, I resolved that I would not walk any farther than necessary.
I stood on the side of the road, and whipped open the hat, so I would look a bit more endearing. (People often make smart remarks about me looking like a terrorist with the hat. I sometimes respond, that if that were true, then my skintight pants would not really work with the whole motif. Nor would my being a woman and strolling on my own. Nincompoops.) I just sort of stared at the first two cars, and the people in it stared back at me. Time to get more aggressive. Sun is beating down on me without relief. I waved at the next car going by. Gave 'em my story, and they told me to hop in. Yes, I know it is dangerous to hitchhike. They did not look like killers. Soon enough, the nice couple dropped me where I needed to go. Then I borrowed a cell phone from a man sitting outside Kentucky Fried Chicken.
I "worked" for my use of his cell phone. I softened him up first by imitating the people in this particular area. The women tend to be VERY thin, shiny, and pretty, but often appear to have something stiff lodged up their backsides. And the men, well...lots of designer jeans and head swiveling every two seconds to see who's looking and who they can look at. He works at the KFC, and told me this impression was spot on. He laughed a bit. Then I asked to use the phone. I'm a salesperson at heart. I got to make my call.
Husband came to get me. Only had $1.50 and the bus is now $2.00. $2.00!! If you are so poor that you do not have a car, why do they need to punish you by making you pay $2.00??? Just my thoughts.
Anyway, then we came home and I had all sorts of grand plans, but actually felt tired from my long walk. I won't give you all the tiny details, such as my cleaning the toilet, a task that feels better once finished, and guiltlessly enjoying some movie with Zac Efron, but eventually my husband came home and convinced me to take a nap. I get like a little kid around naps. I don't want to stop playing, don't want to lie down, even when I'm tired. But somehow, he convinced me. I draped a sweater over my head. (I am also neurotic about getting too much sun b/c I have the kind of skin that develops spots all over it. So this is my attempt at fighting off the damage of the uv rays. Sunscreen makes me feel all greasy.
Slept for almost TWO HOURS. Ok. I'm getting to it, I'm getting to it. The day. At 4, I roll out of the house. Go to Haight Ashbury. Now I have always detested this street. It is famous from the 60's. I'm sure that's a bad description, but think hippies, pot, and lots of sex. And patchouli. Haight Ashbury. My husband goes to Amoeba records on this street, which is this warehouse-ish type place with every kind of music. They assume you will steal them blind, (which is correct) so all backpacks must be checked. It is also the kind of place that does not let you use the bathroom. Actually, none of the places on this street will let you use the bathroom, unless you BUY something. And many on this street, are the disenfranchised types, so if you have to pee, you better have a few dollars, or you're out of luck. Or do like the French, and tinkle on the street.
Anyway, all these reasons made me not like this street. Especially the fact that I despise smoke, and it is impossible to walk down the street without smelling it. And Amoeba has a well-worn, musty smell to it. Well, it finally grew on me about a week or two ago. I decided I want pop music. He only listens to jazz and classical. And after about 9 years together, I am ready for my pop.
I LOVE AMOEBA NOW. I feel perfectly at ease, because you could have an orange head, be topless, and walk around on stilts on this street and no one will notice, and most likely, someone else will be wearing this as well. No one cares in this store WHAT you are wearing or look like as long as you check your bag at the door. And they have listening stations! What I love are these little listening stations. You can bring your selected cd over and hear it, if they have it catalogued. Trust, I have thought about little critters that might attach themselves to me, via the headphones. You can often smell the wafting air of unwashed hair on this street and in the stores. If you do not know what unwashed hair smells like, walk around here and you will. But just like my raw meat, I don't worry about it, but just softly consider, every time I put those headphones on. My husband will not go there and he doesn't even have any hair for lice to hide in. I figure what doesn't kill me... (Anyway, I am not the most "frequent flier" when it comes to hairwashing.)
So after this, I got a John Lennon, Joni Mitchell, and Norah Jones. Listened to the John Lennon and thought, no wonder people like this guy. "Remember." Liked the name and that it was $4.99. I always look for the cheapest ones and used ones with damaged covers. They check everything at this other station in the store to make sure cd's have no scratches or they won't accept it.
Next stop on my journy was the Goodwill. Husband called me and wanted to ride over and then put his bike in my car. So I chatted with my sister about meat, writing, and suffering, while trying on $3, and $4 tops. 50% off bluetag items. I HATE shopping. But I LOVE the Goodwill. This is a place I can afford to shop. And there is no attitude. They don't care if you don't have teeth, if you are fat, or if you dress badly. I love it.
Sometimes I just stare at all the pretty colors. They order clothes by color. It's like looking at rainbows. Better than pills. And I always get into fun conversations with people there.
When my husband got there, we went back to Amoeba and I listened some more. The sun was out. The hippies were in tow, the people in suits, with their long hair, the pierced kids, the tourists, the guys on the corner drinking out of paper bags--were all enjoying the aroma. Of a day with sun and people milling and buying. I got 3 shirts and two were "fancy." Fancy for me, is anything that is not exercise clothing. Unlikely I will ever wear it, but what the "h." (Still "trying" not to swear. Very close to "trying" not to get pregnant.)
Then we drove home, with the bike in the back and put John Lennon on while sitting parked at the beach to watch a really orange sunset. I love my husband. I loved the day. Oh, and best part last. I went and got a steak, on sale, which I am now happily munching on. So if it is my last breath, lucky for me, I got to eat some nice crispy fat off a ribeye before I go. Perfect way to end the day. I love California.
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