what a...different place

walking home from work on friday a man with a typewriter in a box offered to write me a poem about anything. of course, i obliged and chose bicycles and amoebas. tricky, but, as the poem proves, possible. it was a wonderful way to begin the weekend, and i have begun to fear the street folks less because of it. wearing headphones helps because then i can just watch them without have to hear the crazy, loud, awkward diatribes. those bother me more than their presence. maybe i am just getting used to this silly place. too many people trying to crunch into a little space. kato came down yesterday and i showed her, well, not much. i don't know where to go in berkeley. today we rode the bart into the city and stumbled upon a street fair on haite street. again, too many people smashed into extremely small places. i found myself feeling a bit claustrophobic. it was fun though.

finally, i went to the park to read and fell asleep instead. when i woke up i noticed jugglers across the lawn, and sure enough, i knew one of them. i met him at the lodi festival, and i have forgotten his name. he, of course, remembered mine, which is the worst. i kinda felt like a jerk, and i was to sheepish to ask.

i visited ironworks, the giant climbing gym in berkeley, yesterday. tony, you would be so jealous. it's HUGE.
check it out.

okay, that is all for me.

hit me with a few comments. come on, i know you are reading. i can see it in my stat counter.