August 25th, 2004

caillebotte_man at his window

My Tongue is Bored

Governor Piscopo. HAHAHAHAHA!

Oh, wait! I forgot. Arnold. It could happen! Poor New Jersey.


I'm experiencing another of those cravings that come on me now and then. They are especially irritating because they are unsatisfiable. This one is for rum cake. There used to be this little Italian bakery in San Gabriel called- the spelling escapes me- Massiello's, I think. They made the most remarkable rum cakes. They made lots of other tasty things, too, but the rum cakes were unsurpassed. I've never been able to find anything to equal them around here. But I don't know if the place still exists, so I might not be able to get one even if I traveled the 500 miles to San Gabriel.

Even more irritating is the fact that one of these unsatisfiable cravings will inevitably remind me of other tasty things I can no longer get. Tempura from The Boat House in Alhambra. Rose Petal ice cream from Robin Rose in Pasadena. Horneado burritos from Campo's in Santa Monica. Green Tea ice cream from that little place the name of which I can't remember on Atlantic Boulevard in Monterey Park. Pumpkin bread from another nameless place in Arco Plaza. Countless other gustatory delights of a vanished time. The thought of them is enough to drive one to write in sentence fragments! Sometimes I wish I could go to Los Angeles and just eat my way across town like some giant locust, leaving a trail of empty larders and exhausted waiters.

Yeah, my dinner last night wasn't very good. Rum cake would have made up for it.

I've been somewhat addled tonight, unable to concentrate. This happens more frequently than it used to. Maybe I've caught something from Sluggo. I feel as though my brain were running Windows 95. At least it is nice outdoors, though. There is a haze that confines itself to the western sky, so that I am able to see Orion and Venus rising in the east, which is so clear that the darkness itself seems lucid. I'm glad that something is lucid, because I'm certainly not.

Time to sleep.

Evening Light

A strange mauve glow bands the eastern horizon, shaded by dark blue tatters of cloud which break the washed out blue of evening sky. Sunset brought no color to the west this evening, and this inexplicable luminance in the east seems to emanate from the mountains themselves, as though they were etherializing, and their ghosts rolling out to engulf the forest. As I watch, the color rolls overhead like a glassy dome closing. It is a remarkable atmospheric phenomenon, and I'm going out to see what comes of it.