A Week in the Life of Gustavo

"Seems to think that if he fails to write, la migra will find him."--OC Weekly More merriment available at ronmaydon@yahoo.com

sábado, novembro 24, 2001

Bizarre one. The beginning I can no longer remembered but it was alright. Then I rode my scooter on the street and was going to go on the freeway. Mind you, this is not a motorized scooter, it was one of those fold-outs that were the rage this summer. A cop pulls me over and says he's going to write me a huge ticket for this and that I might even go to jail. The cop had long hair and was not dressed in uniform at all but instead was wearing a shirt with the flag of Brazil on it. Intrigued, I asked him "Pode falar portugues?" and then he told me "How do you say, 'a little'?" I responded "Um pouco". Then he said that back. I thought that by talking to him in Portuguese, he'd be happy. Nope, he kept writing the ticket. Scared, I woke up from my dream and went outside.
Ate lunch with Natalie earlier (I will mention people by full name only if they are a public figure or if they have a blog to the right of this text). She is in the pantheon of my official goddesses (I only have 3). What makes a goddess for me? First off, I do not want them. Maybe in the past I did, but not anymore and never again. They also must be beautiful, intelligent, and have a strange mix of self-assuredness and anxiety. But most importantly, they have to know they are beautiful and act it. I will explain my stratification process in a later essay. Regardless, Natalie knows she is beautiful. She was my first goddess.

She lives in Arizona now and makes infrequent trips back to la naranja. We had a blast, just catching up on things and fretting about the future. The future, the future; where on earth is the present? It's wrapped up in a paper that won't be able to be opened in two weeks.