mom and I shared passion
Getting settled into new apartment quite nicely. I’m doing laundry, an djust finished cleaning teh kitchen and the bedroom. Currently sitting in the bay window, watching Bob Dylan, Don’t Look Back, writing this. It’s always been my dream to have bay windows… it feels nice. The place is really starting to feel like a home. Yesterday my mom came over and waited with me for the cable guy (still having cable issues). It was so nice to have her over and sit at a table, and have ROOM. She even took a little nap on my couch and I went into the other room and ate cereal. A novel concept.
While she was over, my mom called my dad to let him know where she was and he suggested that we go out to dinner, but “not at the French place, because I want to go there. You have to go somewhere vegan and terrible.” Immediately I was all “Oh! We can do that! Do you want to try Cafe Gratitude?” and my mom was very excited. We went and it was very good my dad wasn’t there. He would have run screaming. Cafe Gratitude is a vegan restaurant with mainly raw food, and lots of self-affirming credos. We ordered the “I am Passionate” (vegan marinara pizza) to share, and I had the “I am Thriving” (cream of celery) soup. The waiter taking our order looked us dead in the eye to affirm our order: “You ARE passionate.” AWKward. The affirmation of the day was to answer the questions “What brings you Joy?” I think my mom and I horrified the waiter by answering “Disneyland brings us Joy.” I could see the words “evil corporate pigs” swimming in his eyes. After he left I told my mom we probably spoke what were considered dirty words in Berkeley and she repsonded “Too bad!”
I’m reading Andy Warhol’s A: A Novel and loving it. It’s the transcipt of when he followed Ondine for 24 hours (though it really took place over different days). Warhol’s credo was that you had to do something either really wonderful or really terrible in order to make it last, so he made this book really bad. None of the typos are fixed. There’s a point where the transcriber didn’t know what was being said because it was an Italian aria and wrote “Something in Italian. Check the record or Ondine.” Instead of checking the record or Ondine for the words, they just left the note in. Brilliant. I love every “um” “erm” and “htanks” in it.
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