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About San Diego

Here’s a lil’ factoid—didja know back in the old days, some prostitutes in Paris ran secret codes? Like, a red ribbon meant “I’m free,” but two ribbons? “Bring a buddy!” Wild, huh? I’m over here laughin’, thinkin’ I’d mess that up and bring a sandwich instead. Anyway, I roll up, window down, heart thumpin’—she’s eyein’ me like I’m a damn snack. “What you want, sugar?” she says, all smoky. I’m sweatin’ like a pig in a bacon factory, thinkin’, “Man, this is it!”

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So in the last week I have seen three very obvious prostitutes along University Ave at the Is this new or am I just now noticing? These are right out of some movie: short skirts, high heels, Missing: Bothell East.

The parks here – oh, the parks! Like Evergreen Park, where you chill and let your soul breathe. It’s got a little stream that almost whispers stories, like fragments of quotes from that awesome film, Synecdoche, New York – “I could be a mountain, a trunk…” I dunno, man, it just hits different when you combine art with nature.

A Dilemma at UWB