self-archive part nineteen

Green Tortoise, North Beach, and Chinatown: GT is full of amazingly wonderful characters. Everyone is just a travelling youth sideshow. And the music is pretty good. I get off of work and eat dinner after ordering awkwardly from (enter various Dim Sum palace name) somewhere, and then drop things off at the hostel. I get some tea, hear a story or two and then write. Its crucial that its good people though because there's no real privacy. I was told that the sauna is private but not to go in their. "Its full of mixed messages," I was told. Having no idea what that means and wanting to avoid any trauma or even headaches - I avoid it all together. Last night, for example, I ate at Dim Sum __________ (?) and then walked around looking for interesting things in Chinatown. I find it fascinating that its typical to slaughter meat in the store front windows, and have chicken legs for dinner. After wandering, I went "home" to ditch my bag. I headed to the Beat Museum to look for the owner. We talked a lot the other day and this is only a three month old museum. It was interesting to hear about begining a museum from scratch from someone. He's pretty interesting. Then I went to City Lights to try and find the perfect haiku or a book on Tesla. No dice on the Tesla or haiku's. Just as I was getting frustrated I stumbled upon an unpublished collection of Brautigan's works. There are his earliest and wonderfully wonderful. I went back to the hostel and entertained one of the friends there with his work. Then I ran away again and found myself at Vesuvio's. I went to get some privacy. Two of the people who live in my room work at the hostel late nights, so they sleep during the time of day when I would be hiding from the world in my room. So instead I hide from the world upstairs at Vesuvio's. I suppose its cliche. The upstairs is lit mostly just from street lamps outside and there weren't any other people besides myself, no matter how full it seems downstairs. I drank a coffee and read. Then wrote about what I read. I was people watching when I got the idea to wander around some more. Left a tip, hurried off. It was exceptionally foggy last night, and Chinatown was wrapped up in the mysteries of this. The alleys, the banners, the little signs all hid under a pillow of moisture. Eventually, I went back to Lil' Italy and got some fantastic dessert. These cookies that are difficult to describe, but they are a disc of chocolate drizzle with something extra delicious. I have decided I am going to come back to the city next year, and do some of the things I don't care to make time to do now. Who knows when. I picked up this chapbook called "Sleeping in Cars" and its the most wonderful thing ever. I am becoming preoccupied with the possibility of getting mail from these two different peoples. Its interesting how something can insert itself into your mind and not let go. I guess its like the stink ant, or Mr. Wilson except not as artsy or dramatic.
Tonight, I have my dinner with Susan. I had to get some vaccines for ecuador this morning and now look and feel like shit. I hope that this doesn't smear off into a bad impression. I suppose I'll mention my body is having a lil' dance with typhoid and yellow fever as the days skip by. I only really want to talk with her about what its like to be the head artist and the combination of art and science. Then we are going to some type of class, I don't really remember what for right now. Lower Haight, 5:30pm. We shall see.