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August 04, 2004
so much
punk rock breakfast- the house is filling up with people. we're a little delirious, the cooking team. Staying up all night riding bikes to supermarkets and then prepping veggies in the tiny kitchen will do that. our backyard is green and looks tidy, though the lawn is dying where everyone walks over it. i bound up the stairs and yell "two more up" to the cooks and food runners. though we have no super organized system like in a real restaurant, it's not a problem. instead we rely on just knowing that everyone will make sure everything that has to happen does. i've designated myself the main waiter, and it wasn't till after everyone left that i remembered that all of this was for fun, and i could have joked with the tables more. still, i acted goofily professional, that is to say as professional as a punk rock breakfast waiter can be. i greeted each table and brought them apple juice or peach juice or watermelon juice, and assured them that their food would arrive shortly, and that there was plenty enough for anyone to have a second plate of food. aaron and kristy and blaine and megan and marit and the rest of our crew had decided beforehand to raise the bar for punk rock breakfast, throwing together easily the most impressive spread ever seen. along with the fresh made juices, we served blueberry waffles w/ a fruit compote, an amazing tofu scramble by marit that included nutritional yeast, sweet potato home fries, aaron's supergood black beans, and dumpster organic veggie medley. it goes without saying that we stocked plenty of colt 45 malt liquor for mixing with orange juice, the venerable brass monkey, which someone referred to as a mullet mimosa, a term i found astounding and hilarious. somewhere during the day I paused to chat with matt, who was walking around offering French press coffee, and he had some sort of energy pouring out of his pores, like he was plugged into a light socket. I asked if he was ok, and he said “everything is normal.” If that kind of a coffee high is normal, that’s scary. His hair should have been standing on end.
Food is served and people are smiling, and everyone grins like they ate too much. I share malt liquor and orange juice in preparation for work, and shortly before I have to leave aaron lobs the first volley of what quickly becomes a punk rock breakfast food fight. Excellent.
Critical mass was amazing, the house party we had was good fun, though I’m swearing off sparks malt liquor energy drink because it gives me amnesia, and I made a good push for daveo to move up here, though I’ll be pleasantly surprised if he does. Kristy and aaron are gone at the end of the month, and I keep pushing back my planned date to move out and meet them in south America, I’m tentatively departing in late November or even December or January. I’m kind of tired of how my life is always about leaving, but I’m not ready to change that yet I don’t think.
I was reflecting the other day on how when I first moved here, I went to the climbing gym 4 times a week cause I didn’t know anyone. Now I hardly go because there is so much to do, Thursday seems to be the boiling point, this coming Thursday I have an art opening to go to to support fuzzy dave, punk rock soccer, bike mechanic lessons at the bike kitchen, helping pass out food for the food bank with my rad new friend Vanessa, fixing colin’s bike, plus some other stuff I have written down but probably won’t even get to do. my climbing has suffered, but for very good reasons.
I’ve been reading tons, read this amazing book of short stories called “bring me your saddest Arizona,” totally impressive. Right now I just started “the ice at the bottom of the world” by mark Richard. I’m concentrating on reading short stories in the hopes of being inspired to write some. Who knows though.
Posted by bendan at August 4, 2004 10:25 PM
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