scenes from my weekend: a city burning black and gold, smoke and stingray under skyscrapers, waiting for a tow truck after our first accident and watching the mini creep away later, hoisted by a forklift. in between: rainy afternoons with my roommate from davis and her boyfriend, the lingering taste of salted egg crab, museum-hopping and being tongue-tied on local history, clips from adele’s royal albert hall dvd.
on saturday i sat with a boy. we picked at a salad and played draw something for twenty minutes, but separately, and twenty minutes after that i was seated across another boy — he made a mess of his peanut rice balls in sweet beancurd, and his mother was helpless, only armed with a tissue and a reprimand. i don’t want to complain but perhaps there might be more than this? if discontent is the mother of ambition, i hope i’m on to something amazing