i woke up in a fine enough mood. i showered and got dressed. i made some steel cut and brewed some coffee. its the first time ive brewed coffee at home in months. the last time, im certain, was shortly after the new year in colorado. my intention was to go to commercial and have coffee at prado. i havent had coffee since i left victoria and, doing my research, prado, while no discovery (NOTHING can touch discovery coffee), seemed to be a fine enough place. then i realized i bought some beans from discovery. of course, it wouldnt be the same without logan's master skills or that $11,000 Clover machine but at least I had the beans. as the water was boiling, jeremy knocked on the door. "good morning. i just wanted to see how you made out last nite." "fine. thanks, jeremy."
he told me he came by yesterday and knocked on the front door. "i thought i could see you inside but it looked like you were asleep and you had a dvd on."
"oh sorry. i didnt hear. i musta been asleep."
(i was trying to watch les boreades. i did fall asleep.)
"Im just gonna..." he waved the CDs he came to return and headed to the living room.
"hey jeremy. do you know how to work the tv?"
tom and antony's tv is hooked up to satellite and four different machines: the satellite box, a tuner, a vcr and the dvd player. i couldnt get it to work the previous nite. i was hoping to find roseanne on cmt. "im trying to get newsworld but..."
after turning on the lights in the livingroom and taking off his glasses, after putting his face close to the different boxes and their assorted buttons, after fidgeting with the three remotes he figured it out. i was able to catch the last half hour of the view. yet another reason i adore jeremy wilkins. before he left, he said "i recall you saying you didnt know too much about vancouver and the weather's suppose to be just beautiful this weekend so perhaps if youre free we can take a drive."
"that would be great. thanks jeremy."
this bob individual better be amazing to jeremy.
jeremy left and i ate my oatmeal and drank my coffee. it was very good. not cause of my coffee making abilities but a testament to the superior quality of discovery's beans. the caffeine pinballed though my body. my chest felt warm, my hands felt bigger than they were and so did my shoulders. i could feel my hair, stiff and soft at once. and this was only after three days without.
maybe the caffeine had something to do with my degeneration. as per usual, i spent a hour emailing friends and reading a note i received from my supervisor (who thinks i should move on to chapter 3, during the day, and to keep the momentum going while revising chapters 1 and 2 in the evenings. i have yet to respond. im still mulling it over. i havent told him about fred wah's invitation.) moving on to my second cup of coffee, i took out the tourist map that sylvia, tom's friend, left for me. this map only features the area frequented by tourists (chinatown in pink, the heritage district in a mocha brown, robson as a rectangular mauve and yaletown in gray). The map stops on Main Street. I took out the real map, a well thumbed, coverless MapArt of Vancouver Tom took out of the glove compartment.
From this real map that I couldnt take cause it was too thick, I saw that the Kingsway, which is the major thoroughfare two blocks from my front door, turns into Main Street. It would involve minimum mental gymnastics to take the truncated map with Main Street as the end of a flat world (after which all things fall off) with the more real map that showed I could keep going on Main Street and turn right after the Viaduct onto Hastings and be downtown. Since last night, my goal was to get some free range eggs from the food co-op on Commercial Drive. Ive only started eating free range eggs and organic food a few months ago starting with my detox and I notice a difference in taste and quality, most especially with eggs. (Avocados as well.) This morning, though, I realized that I was nearly out of sunscreen. While I doubt Id ever get back my nice Asian skin to summer 2004 levels when cosmetics counter women in Providence and San Diego followed me around department stores not under suspicion of shoplifting but to praise my skin, when random guys in London were loving how soft and smooth it was (but, ya, compared to white people's skin?...I mean...), I want to do what I can to protect if from the sun. Call it vanity. That's fine. I knew it was coming. Running out of sunscreen. Weeks ago, I started thinking what brand to buy. Ive used a bunch in the past but since 2007 has been a year of new beginnings, why not it extend my life change to my brand of sunscreen? One of the best things about being in a city is having choice. I wanted to go to Holt's and to Shopper's, both at the Pacific Centre, and see my options.
Im walking down the Kingsway and as it's turning into Main, which is on top of a hill, I can see the rest of Vancouver before me: the lipstick glass buildings of the downtown core, the suburban sprawl climbing up the mountain in north Vancouver, the orange and white cranes swinging and rotating in turns like kingfishers on the beach but instead of picking prawns and clams, theyre building what will eventually be the Canada Line of the Sky Train. From this view, and as Im walking down the hill, the city ahead of me, a testament to humankind's progress and ingenuity and industry, I realize I forgot to brush my teeth. It was sickening. I was a reason the magnificent edifices of civilization were bound for failure. If you cant take care of your own mouth...At 4 years old, I learned to brush my teeth once in the morning and before I went to bed. In kindergarten, we used to brush our teeth after lunch. Ive flossed every night since 1998. How could I leave my house and be in public with such a filthy mouth? This oversight and lapse in hygiene made me think of this time last year when I was in Philadelphia. I walked out of my hotel and blocks later, noticed my pants were falling down. True, this is a unfortunately too frequent occurrence what with me not having a ass but the problem seemed to be more pronounced as I walked along Walnut Street heading towards the College of Physicians. After hitching my pants up a fourth time in half as many blocks, I realized I forgot to wear my belt. So, as I do with most things, I texted Rafael about this latest evidence of my inevitable downward spiral. Like a true friend, he promptly texted a scathing reprimand calling me a whore and some such variations and that to walk around in Philadelphia with my pants falling down was to solicit unseemly advances. He was never for me going to Philadelphia in the first place. "But it's for research, Rafael..." It didnt matter to him. He thought some man would find me and turn me into a prostitute like he said Kanye turned John Legend. "But Kanye's from Chicago..." I protested. He didnt wanna listen. The archives were waiting and, the night before, I asked the archivist to pull some books and records promptly for 9am. To be late, to turn around and run back to my hotel room to get my belt, would be a professional affront to the archivist. This time, though, I guess I could have turned around and gone home. I have all the time in the world (for which Im very thankful, thank you very much). But just as I knew that to go continue on Main would lead me to Hastings and turning left would lead me to downtown, I knew that Prior, to my left, would turn into Venables which would would lead to Commercial Drive. I could get my eggs. Getting eggs is less socially intensive than going to a cosmetics counter and being approached by brand representatives. And nobody at Shopper's would ask me if I needed help.
I turned left on Prior after passing some run down hotels. Behind the loading dock on the corner of Prior and Main was a man who had his back to the street. He was hunched into his open and outstretched coat trying to light what I would see, once he lit it and turned around, was a crack pipe. Prior runs up a hill with traffic heading east and west. The street signs are in English and Chinese. It had been under an hour since I ate- I grabbed a pear as I set the alarm and locked the door- but I was already hungry. I was thinking of getting a samosa and a Santa Cruz juice from Sweet Cherubim on Commercial though Im repulsed by their name.
I ended up seeing a Fujiya, which Rob loves in Victoria, so I went inside and had, of all things, pre-made unagi donburi. I figured my mouth couldnt be more foul since I didnt brush my teeth so whats wrong with a little fried eel and rice? It was the wrong choice but I continued. 
On Venables, just before Commercial, was Uprising bakery. I had heard of it and imagined it more roughshod than it was. I didnt think theyd have a wall of prepackaged bread. Wildfire in Victoria remains my favourite bakery. What bakery uses whole wheat unbleached flour for their pastries that still taste delicious? I miss their whole spelt loaf the most. (Well, I miss that and...anyway anyway....) I made it to the food co-op and got my eggs along with some other items. I walked home purposely taking a different route from the map I had put together in my head. I cut through neighbourhoods and backway driveway alleys. Slightly slipping at times from the fallen and rotting petals of ornamental cherry blossoms, but never falling, I didnt get lost once and felt wholly satisfied at my exploration.
Just got home. I brushed my teeth and Im eating the darkest chocolate i could find. Ive developed a real liking for it.
1 comment:
jeremy wilkins IS pretty damned adorable.
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