pan de queso

it is almost halloween and i know as the movie mean girls has pointed out it is a good excuse for girls to dress slutty and not get criticized for it. i am sticking with my costume of frances bean. how can a twelve year old be slutty? krista is supposed to be my mom, courtney love, but we'll see. she can be slutty.

tonight i very much wanted some pan de queso so i stopped by the quetzal panderia on my way home. quetzals remind me of this water color class i took one summer. we painted all different animals and wrote poems about them. their was a transvestite working the counter at the panderia. the voice was the first clue and as i investigated further i could clearly see foundation attempting to cover stubble. his face and body were round. he was speaking in spanish and making the woman in front of me laugh. panderia's are so colorful, and so warm. it reminded me of an almodovar movie, the transvestite that runs a panderia that makes the most delicious pan de queso. i should write almodovar and tell him about it. he should make a movie in los angeles. there are enough people who speak his language. he had a scar over his left eye. i wondered how he got it. i imagined a scene from an almodovar movie, he was turning tricks and got beat up. it was like i couldn't think of anyone else i would've rather had sell me bread.

tell mama

today we watched the documentary, "festival express,' in my english class. it was uncomfortable because when janis joplin sings i want to sing too. so she was on screen singing, "cry, cry, babaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay," and i wanted to scream along with her, but i couldn't. when i was eleven i used to record myself singing along to bobby mcgee, really losing it at the end like she does, hey, hey, hey , bobby mcgeeeeeeee, yeah. oh da lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy, lieeee, hey, hey, hey, bobby mcgeeeeee. it felt good. i think this documentary was the most footage i have ever seen of janis and i realize that the character jerri blank, from strangers with candy, must have modeled her wardrobe from janis. the tight pants with the visible panty lines, the scarves and head bands, they are all reminiscant of janis and her crazy ways. each wore them differently--janis was serious and pulled it off. on jerri janis' clothes just look like a joke, which is what they are supposed be.

i'm glad it's raining. tonight i wanted to take one of those dances classes where you are working so hard that the mirror is foggy and everything is damp and then you go outside and the whole world is damp. but there wasn't anyone to take. i think i wanted to take a class that would use the mirror, the if malaya did "the beautiful ones." yeah, i really could have gone for that tonight.

the nanny

i have spent the last two friday nights in the valley and whenever i am there i am so, so, so happy that i do not live there anymore. there is something about the valley at night that is intensely depressing to me, it feels foreign and unfamilar even though i lived there for so, so long. the darkness makes it feel like some town i just exited to off the freeway, that i've never been to before, and will never be back to, nothing to remember. but i do go back to the valley. i also feel like it is crawling with teenagers. ew.

so, i've got this job. i nanny for an eight month old baby. i like it and i like the cold, hard cash i get paid in. it is a bit lonely though. i spend hours on end with someone who will never remember me, unless i become a permanent factor in her life which seems unlikely. i might be around when she turns one, but certainly not two, or three or four. my fourth birthday is one of my first memories. i remember my uncle got my a barbie coloring book and a box of crayons. he didn't wrap it he just put it in a plastic bag. my uncle has never been married and that was probably the physical, usable, present he gave me. it's been twenty dollars bills ever since, and yes, they are physical and i can use them, but i couldn't color on them or build anything out of them. when i die the baby will probably be around 60, with grandchildren possibly, but she won't know who i am, how i fed her and changed her and hummed itsy bitsy spider. i watch the baby to make sure she doesn't put anything dangerous in her mouth. i am supposed to be entertaining her but she is pretty good at entertaining herself. one of their windows faces a schoolyard and kids are always out screaming and playing. she can watch those kids play for minutes, which in baby time is long. maybe we don't remember infancy because it is so boring.

i am graduating soon and i am thinking about jobs that i want to have. i don't want a job that perpetuates a cycle that i don't like. and i am trying to decide if i like the cycle of academia. do i want to get my mfa so i can teach creative writing at the college level, it just seems so worthless, even though i have had some great writing teachers. i don't know how much school has helped me and sometimes i wish i never would have gone. it just makes me feel like everyone else, and it is a jungle out there and i don't want to be like everyone else. but there are millions of kids graduating from college, and working at some crappy job, tyring to pay off massive student loans, and why? i don't know if i want to be a part of that. so what cycles do i want to be a part of. i think i like nannying because it is a cycle that i don't mind being a part of, having a hand in.

the feral cat chronicles, cont.

the human lady continued to bring food. it wasn't ever tuna again, but meals that came out of can with names like beef with gravy and ocean surprise. i was still nursing but grover and i let mustard and ginny take part in the feedings. the human lady would put the food out and a plate and then stand there and watch us. it bothered me, the way she did that, standing there watching us devour this food. we were all so hungry. it made me feel undignified, to let her see how badly we wanted this food.

"she's just watching us." i said to grover between bites.

"just ignore her dear." he answered.

ginny and mustard just ate and ate. kittens, they are always hungry. between the four of there certainly wasn't enough food, even with the human lady's offering. the kitten's need food to grow up into big strong cats, not like me and grover. we are skinny but survivors. i would love to see ginny and mustard grow into cats that are larger than us. strong cats that demand a presence, that don't live in shadows.

once they were done eating the kittens curled up next to me.

"that food was so good mama." ginny said. "better than the hamburger wrappers we ate off last night."

"i know sweetie." i didn't want to be too agreeable. i was still unsure of the human lady's motives. i could not get out of my head what that old cat with the missing ear tip had told me. the human lady just wants to fix us and steal our babies.

"do we get food like that from now on?" asked mustard.

"i wouldn't get too used it." i said, licking his head.

"why?"

"we can't rely on humans. we aren't like the inside cats. we are outdoor cats, wild cats, the way cats are supposed to be." i answered looking at my babies, trying to teach them something.

"indoor cats?" ginny's ears perked up.

oh no. i had peaked curiosity instead of fear. "yes, sweetie, indoor cats." i nuzzled her trying to calm her.

"there are cats in the big thing that humans come out of?" ginny was excited, she rolled over and stood up. always the follower, mustard did the same. i had opened up a can of tuna that i certainly didn't mean to.

"yes, there are probably cats in that building, and that one," i nodded to the other building nearby, "they rely on the humans for food and water and love."

"where do they go to the bathroom?" mustard asked.

i laughed, "in a box. filled with dirt type stuff they call litter."

"box of dirt?" mustard rolled on the ground laughing. ginny pounced on him.

"i don't think it sounds so funny," ginny said. "it's quite interesting."

"it's not interesting ginny. those cats are confined to the indoors all the time. they never get to feel the sun directly on them or hunt through tall bushes. they completely rely on humans for food, love, and entertainment," i put my face by hers, "you don't want that dear."

she looked at me wide-eyed. "why not? sounds like an easy life to me. at least you'd always have food." ginny had always been interested in luxuries even when she was just born, she stayed on and stole most of the small padding that i found to give birth on from her brothers.

"you would trade food for freedom?" i asked her.

she was quiet. she laid down and crossed her paws. "no." she said. "but it might be nice..." she yawned and put her head down. "you'd never have to worry..." she drifted off to sleep.

mustard curled up by his sister and so did i. we all took a nap and i dreamt of ginny in a big comfy house, eating tuna everyday, the humans with their hands all over her and i hoped ginny wasn't dreaming the same thing.