Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Lots of ads for sleep clinics

Getting the mattress down to the basement the morning I left was a pain. Lester was quiet in his travel cage all the way to Arizona. In Phoenix I had to wash cage out in the airport bathroom because water had spilled all over the inside and turned his food to mush. Imagine me in the stall of an airport bathroom wiping out a travel bird cage with Lester on my head peeping increasingly loud peeps. I kept Lester quiet in the terminal by constantly scratching his head. One young and very blonde mother was fascinated, she kept exclaiming: "Look at that! That bird's just letting you pet him!" and a French woman cooed: "What a lovely little boy you have."

On the plane from Phoenix to San Diego, Lester peeped a great deal. His travel cage fit in my bag and under the seat in front of me, so the folks sitting in my row began to look around in a disturbed manner when Lester's peeps got loud enough for them to hear. I kept saying, "Shoosh, little one, I love you, we'll be there soon." Somewhere over the Salton Sea I finally told my rowmates, "I have a parrot in my bag, so that's why I'm talking to it. But I'm talking to the parrot, not the bag." I realized that the explanation probably needed some hard evidence to back it up, so I took Lester (in his cage) out of the bag, and they ooed and ahhed.

North County San Diego is COLD! Seriously, I have to wear a wool sweater inside. Actually the weather has been great--55-60 during the day, around 40 at night. Carlsbad, where I now, ahem, live, has a long stretch of shockingly beautiful undeveloped beach, which is cool. Mark and I have already been for a few runs along it and I walk along the bluffs at least once a day, since I am unemployed and have nothing to do but unpack.

Our landlord is friendly, and our neighbours include a few families and some surfer and military dudes and their girlfriends. We can hear the train from almost everywhere in town, which I like, especially at night. The guy who delivered our stuff said know the folks who made the anthrax that caused such havoc in DC a few years ago, as well as JFK and MLK and Ted Kazinsky (did I spell that right?) the unibomer. He said MLK's speeches had coded refrences to a mountain where he (the driver) had lived.

The local alternative weekly is pretty good but it doesn't run Savage Love and there are a lot of ads for cosmetic surgery, antiaging clinics, dental surgery, etc. The ads looking for participants in medical/psychological resurch also outnumber those in the City Paper. Lot's of ads for people having trouble sleeping.

The Mexican food here is really good, even the tacos at the chain places (not Taco Bell) taste suprisingly close to the ones I used to eat on the street in Mexico City. Carlsbad also has lots of inexpensive diners. Mark and I ate a huge, tasty and cheap breakfast at Als the other day, but we'll try others.

We went to IKEA to buy a couch, lamps, and some barstools. The whole experience was traumatic and overwhelming, and we couldn't find our car in the parking lot. Strangely, it was also raining. So I stood in the middle of this huge lot, clutching the barstools and lamps, while Mark walked up and down the lot until we found the car. We ate at IHOP to soothe our nerves. It's so crowded here! Except on the beach--for most of the day no one is there except a few surfers in wetsuits. On weekends and at sunset it's more crowded--but not so much. I guess it's winter.

We don't have internet access at home (I'm in Mark's office whilst he teaches), but soon...this will help my job hunt. I do have an interview at a language school in La Jolla--but it's probably a no go because the location makes it nearly impossible to get to. I do have my online work--but please do send editorial and writing work my way, I'm always looking. Save me from selling myself to sleep research labs!

Strangers greet me on the street--they say, "good day," "hello," "good morning," "good afternoon," and "hey!"

I haven't yet made it to the Ashtanga Yoga Center in Encinitas (although soon to move to Carlsbad, lucky for me!) to practice with Tim Miller, but will as soon as I have funds coming in. In the meantime I'm, um, chanting mantras to Ram and doing lots of hip openers.

I moved Lester back into his big cage yesterday. He took a bath and then began to sing--a happy parrot in the house always makes me happy. I'll post pictures when I find all the cable connecter things.

The only poetry thing I've read recently is the old issue of the Poetry Project Newsletter. I brought Leslie Bumstead's new book with me today, so perhaps I'll read that this afteroon.

Bye bye.

1 comment:

Ray said...

Hi california girl! The dunes! and the beach! did Lester know he was flying -- or at least moving really, really fast -- when he was on the airplane? There was a blurb in the Express this morning about a parrot rescuing his owner from robbers by pecking at them until they scramed. The police then used the dried blood on the parrot's beak to DNA test and catch the baddies. you left a bunch of papers in your desk at school (bonnie panicked, what else is new?) Mainly just old check receipts. I can destroy or i can mail to you, let me know!