Friday, September 27, 2013


My mother and I stood on top of Topanga watching the little bats scurry about the remnants of twilight. She was getting her home ready for her lover to arrive and I was driving back to Venice. We bought books today Lu and I. She read me a story from the Brentwood Country Mart to the Hippy Canyon and it was a simple story about a man who makes bets for people's fingers and she read it wonderfully. Vin Scully is a voice I will one day miss, radio, Dodgers scored three runs in the top of the first before I switched stations, tired. My head is throbbing. A glass of whole iced milk. At my cafe, I ordered pasta with chicken. I am waiting for it, no sugar in the sauce, my friend behind the counter checked. Turns out she had been in a smelly yoga class yesterday, as had I. Before arriving here, my dad and I spoke on the phone while I drove down PCH, and he sounded fatigued, but he'd also put together a dresser today. I told him that the last time Trav and I tried to assemble a piece of Ikea furniture, we looked like the monkeys in 2001 Space Odyssey. And he laughed. And my food is ready.