emma b. says

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Lost in Beaverton

So much for google maps and and my nagivational skillz. I spent a clear and cold Saturday afternoon with one eye on the road and the other on the chicken scratch that I apparently wrote to myself. I made my appointment. I was only an hour late.

When I got home I fell into the couch, held tight to the dog and wanted to fall asleep for an eon or so.

The newness, it's frustrating on so many levels. In San Francisco I always knew where I was, on any given corner I could have told you where the ocean was, where the bay lies, bridges and mountains, markers and milestones. These days when someone says to me, well X lies South of Powell, I have to locate Powell on my mental map and struggle not to transpose my San Francisco Powell, and then I have to track the sun in my head, and it takes up all sorts of capacity and I find myself beleaguered and begging for patience.

I have no idea where I am. I have a sense that at my brother's house, the river lies against my back bedroom window, more or less, but it's not like the ocean, those primordial currents that tug westward. I think I need to spend more time with maps.

In other news I bowled 158 the other night, in some sort of fluke of magesty I rolled four strikes and won a budweiser. I think there is some sort of resurgence of baby punks happening in Portland, I haven't seen hair quite so unyielding or pink since the eighties. Some baby punk skulked into the bar with an obviously filched wristband and tried to order a pitcher (in bowling shoes!!!) I had to admire the kid's chutzpa, of course he skulked out on the heels of a half muttered fuck you when the pitcher was (rudely) refused. Still it makes me a little sad to see these kids (shakes granny cane in indignation) regurgitating London circa 1984, but a little brighter and a perhaps more medicated and a lot more polished, no agenda to push, no soul to surrender (brandishes granny cane) as if I were any sort of authority, being a kid is hard, the world is wonderous and punishing, as if I had any authority, I am still astonished that anyone could consider me an adult.

but whatever. I start week two on Pill Hill tomorrow. There are jobs to be had, cities to be conquered, houses to be furnished, bus flirtations to be fucked.


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