Dumb Nostalgia: Sometimes I am a Big, Dumb Animal

The other day I bought a desk chair for $1. It was a pretty sweet deal. The fucker is made of oak, and what I believe to be cast iron because it weights about 75 pounds. It fit into the back seat of my two-door car without much hassle, but for some reason didn't want to come back out when I got to my apartment. I was fighting it for a few minutes before I lost my temper, and, trying to reason with the damn thing through brute force, put one of the legs straight through the back window of my car. The desk chair has now cost me $301. I could have just gotten one of those big, leather jobs at Staples and hired an Elvis impersonator to deliver it, and 17 pints of ice cream to me on a donkey for about $200. Shit.

If I could have one wish fulfilled it would be the ability to punish inanimate objects for cauing me either pain or undue frustration. That's how petty I am feeling today. This may be the only thing to lift my spirits: a miniature pair of lederhosen.

Yesterday some friends and I drove down to Pescadero, a one horse town just south of Half Moon Bay. We drove an hour or so just to eat at this restaurant. It sounds a little crazy, but they have about eight dishes that involve fresh, local artichokes and garlic, and a half dozen homemade pies for desert. Sold.

Before heading back we wandered around on the beach for a while. This was what I missed the most living in NY. That and personal space. And being able to avoid human feces when walking down the street. It's the little things.

It was a beautiful day though.

Confusion?

Lexi's friend Jay has some sort of unsubstantiated fear of what she calls precision in nature. I have never heard of such a thing, but still, I think I might mail this to her, just to be sure.