continuing adventures

Monday, a pedal fell off of my bicycle.

Doh!

Today, the bikeshop fixed it for $5.

Sweet!

(this is where you say, "slow news day?")

denouemont

I am teh sickiehead at the moment. I came down with a snifflenose cold after not getting enough sleep on saturday or sunday, and now I'm feeling incredibly lethargic, content to sprawl out on some grass in the shade. Or, as is the case at the moment, park myself at this little cafe on campus, drink coffee and daze off and nurse my goobery sinuses.

This is what Kenny called the denouemont. I have to say I've become somewhat attached to San Diego and UCSD, faced with the weird sensation of thinking this might be a place I'd want to live. The old neighborhoods &mdash Normal Heights and North Park and Kensington and Hillcrest and Mission Hills and Bankers Hill and even Ocean Beach &mdash they have their telegraph avenues and their interesting-fooderies-within-walking-distance and their late night cafes. I like this particular UCSD cafe, perched on small rise in the ground, bunches of scientists lounge in the perfect weather — the cool beeze, the afternoon sun — discussing their work and their lives and — if yesterday was any example — their trips to Stockholm.

I don't believe in denouemont, but the way Kenny says it, it's true. The falling action doesn't come in the summertime. It's nonstop action until the very end, and then everybody leaves. Everyone goes there separate ways and we're left to wander the globe and eventually come to view the summer through the nostalgia-tinted glasses. It's my sixth such summer (alaska, aerospace, sweden, israel, switzerland, san diego), but they're all different, and I know I've grown. Certain moments become locked into place as defining ones. Floating down the Rhone. Riding with a huge bicycle pack down Banker's Hill, enormous silver-bellied aircraft hurtling down through the sky.

It's too bad that Kenny doesn't write as kennyjensen anymore. Livejournallers seem to come and go. Sometimes I feel like I'm holding out the vigil for the long run. Othertimes I know I'm chattering into space to keep myself company.