Low Fuel

I just came back from Koryo Sushi on Telegraph to give my body some sustenance for dinner. As much as I complain that I need to leave the Bay Area in order to become a home owner, I do love that my late night dinner needs can be met by sushi. Koryo is not exclusive-expensive-sushi-snob sushi. It is cool boy/girl, late night in my journal, rock-n-roll, hanging with my friends, staying-up-too-late working/studying/whatever sushi. It is awesome.

Last night Daniel was my chef and he loved his fish. I asked him about some beautiful roe cocktails he created for a table behind me and we got into our discussion.

Part of me wondered if I was scamming, the other part of me was fascinated with this Korean man who became a sushi chef and was inquisitive about it.

I'm about 3 weeks away from my B.A.V. My spiritual hymen has been reweaving itself over the last almost year as I recharge and rethink who I am. I notice as I reach the year mark that my thoughts are really sophomoric and I consider many men in a cattle call of attraction.

I went to Koryo last night at about 1:30 after a day filled with disturbing and exciting news. I ran the gamut of emotion. I was very happy, giggly, and leaving messages to my family about how much I loved them in the morning. I spoke very briefly with my nephew Tylor who illustrated the textbook boredem of a 7th grade boy by saying, "Can I call you later, Titi Erika? I'm doing my homework" after uttering single word responses to my inquiries about him visiting Vermont to visit his mom who's in law school.

How can his Titi Erika compete with homework? I wish he would have just told me he didn't want to talk at the moment.

By late morning I was cross because the insurance guy called at 10:30 to confirm our 11 am appoinment and he was already at my house. I was 20 minutes away and didn't get to clean up the apartment.

I battled my brain and told myself not to take it personally. It was his job and he is not trying to find me guilty. I drove up behind him in the car Fumi is lending me and apologized that we would not be sitting in my apartment because my mother raised me to be presentable. I set up two chairs outside my apartment, faced my neighbor's garden and gave answers to his questions.

The procedure felt rather painless. I just wonder what next about this car. I miss Jane terribly. And my tent. And the sleeping bag. And the music. And the otter puppet. And many other little things that I knew were in that car in the trunk.

*sigh*

My list of events for Saturday included: going to Jessica's Quinceanera, visiting Fumi in the hospital, possibly doing a birthday party with Megan in Solano county and stopping by my former co-worker's 21st birthday party.

I woke up late so I could catch rest before the whirlwind day and after meeting with Mary Ann and the insurance guy in the morning, I showered and dressed for the day.

I wanted to find pearls for Jessica because I think pearls are a fitting first gift to acknowledge womanhood. The jewler at the Farmer's market did not have freshwater pearl earrings.

Phooey.

Meanwhile I was on the phone with friend Mike in Portland catching up with him before he leaves for a 3-week trip down the Grand Canyon on a raft.

That sounds awesome. I would love some time off right now, just to pause and get things in order.

He and I were laughing on the phone and just catching up.

After our conversation I switched over to my missed calls and connected with O.

Wow. The conversation took a more serious tone and I reshuffled my day to make accomodations for that.

I would drive by the Quince and then head to the hospital to check on Fumi. No to Solano county and depending on remaining energy, perhaps stop by the hotel to wish co-worker a Happy Birthday.

In the traffic on the way to the city I laughed with This American Life.

Laugh is too generous a word, but I did crack a smile as I reviewed my emotional roller coaster of the past two weeks. I love my new job. I'm still upset about my car being stolen. I loved the film premier of Illuminations and even saw my personal growth over the last 3 years. I hate the fact that a teacher was attacked where I am working this week. I love that I am surrounded by this amazing circle of friends and I hate feeling impotent to offer support to them.

I reeled some of that in.

During sushi I took some quiet time to myself, wrote in my journal, and looked upon a greeting card of an illustration of Josephine Baker in her famous banana skirt. She was wild and generous and built herself a little empire of admirers.

I think she was a bold woman who took her boldness and transplanted it to where it would be recognized.

I think her life was amazing. Certainly not without its difficulty, but if I could say I wouldn't mind emulating a life, it might be hers. I love the idea that she adopted 12 children toward the end of her life and her naivete served her well.

I moved my pen in loops across the paper as I looked upon the illustration, in between conversations with Daniel, the Korean sushi chef at Koryo.

After crunching on Amaebi fried heads, tamago, and black mushroom, I felt tiredness taking its grip on me.

Time for bed and BBC rocking me to sleep with the latest news from around the world. Worry fills my mind because the news highlights some of our greatest destructive foibles, and Brazilian jet liner deaths, and lies about how the War on Terrorism reduced the threat of terrorism to the United States, and examining school shootings...

I found my mind wandering to how chilly it's becoming and how leaves will begin to crispen back east and in the Sierra Foothills.

How I wish to crunch on a path of leaves and smell the crispness of autumn.