Tour De Fat was amazing. It was so amazing, I’m writing about it right now, instead of having sex right now. Which I totally could be doing. With a cute boy. Who is totally waiting for me in bed. So, I’ll make this quick.
I love Tour De Fat! It was so much fun! The beer was yummy, and the drunk bike addicts were really nice! The circus folks were entertaining and the band rocked! They were really happy to see my cards! And I made enough money to pay my rent this month! I’m gonna see if I can go to another Tour De Fat event in a few weeks, and I’m gonna see if I can go to other beer festivals too. So if you have a beer festival that you plan or participate in send me an email, and let me know when and where. I’ll show up with my cards, and my typewriter (Bob) and m
I thought I’d be able to go out and sell after my day, but I was hoarse last night. And I had a hard time moving my legs. And my head. And talking out loud. And then I thought I’d be able to go to the Folsom Street Fair today. But I was too tired. And then I thought “OK, well, go sell at Zeitgeist at least”. But it turns out, when I have to be charismatic and loud, and write custom cards about people’s deepest darkest secrets for 6 hours, it takes something out of me.
So today I slept in, and finished my book, and talked to my friend Emily, and ate some pizza, and watched Grey’s Anatomy, and smoked some weed and drank some beer. And then the cute boy picked me up, and took me to his house.
We stopped to make-out on the way. And I got to look at the sun setting behind some sort of Marsh, halfway between Oakland and San Mateo. It was beautiful. It’s a weird trip so far. It’s like Oregon has somehow set into my bones. And I’m not seeing the landscape the way I used to. It’s haunting me like I’ve never seen it before. And the way the air expands in the fading warmth of September is so reassuring to me, like it was in the summertime, when I was a teenager, and summer was heavy with possiblities. But there’s something more than just the reassurance. It surprises me, this expansive, heavy air. Like my childhood memories were a story I read, and I’m just realizing it might have been a biography.
My respite felt more like melloncholly than solace. So, when the cute boy picked me up, I tried to be peppy. And so far we’ve had some sex and television and chocolate. Also: he made me a chicken salad. Which, it turns out, I love.
Tomorrow, I’ll be back at the Zeitgeist, being the bad-ass Art Prostitute everyone loves. So if you’re in the Mission tomorrow night, come get your drink on, and check out some Snarky Cards!
